


Life After Death

by wolfmaid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Aemon is not a Targaryen, Alluding to Joffrey and Ramsey, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Real World, Animal Deaths, Dealing with Survivors guilt, F/M, Jon Snow knows MANY things, Jonerys, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Major character deaths mentioned, Period Typical Attitudes, Period typical attitudes toward infertility, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-World War II, Sexual Content, mentions of war and violence, referenced abuse/neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 77,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfmaid/pseuds/wolfmaid
Summary: Young married couple, Daenerys and Jon Snow return to each other after World War II, both broken shells of their former selves and try to start a new life.*Historical AU*





	1. Prologue (Dany)

**Author's Note:**

> As I have a couple of fics going already, I probably should not be starting another, but this one has been haunting me, and thought maybe writing it would help me get out of this wretched writer's block I've been struggling with over the last couple of weeks. 
> 
> This is a historical au, set in the real world and I don't know if there is an audience for this type of fic, and if not that is okay, but I thought I'd like to try my hand at it. This first chapter is rather short, just a mini introduction. If you like it and would like to see more of this story please let me know.

London… it had been home once. Daenerys Snow was not sure where home was anymore. Stepping off the train into the familiar yet strange train station, she felt like she was watching herself from a distance. Most of the people around her were jubilant, exultant over both victory in Europe and in the Pacific. Daenerys did not feel victorious, mostly she felt tired. France was not so very far from London, and yet it seemed like a million miles away. She had woken up this morning, bags packed, in a nearly bombed out hospital, and now she was back in England and not even a day had passed. Daenerys glanced at the crowds around her, they passed her by as if the war had never happened, and the world was the same. How could everyone look so happy? Trying to see past the smiling faces, and roar of the trains, she looked for her husband. Would she even be able to recognize him? They had not seen each other in…. she was not quite sure how long… all she knew was that they had now been apart longer than they had been wed before the war began. They had been apart for the majority of their married lives.

“Dany!”

_Dany?_ How long had it been since she had heard that name? Was that voice calling to her? Dany turned around and saw him. His deep grey eyes and dark curly hair were moving toward her. Had she any tears left inside her to cry, she would have cried for him. Dany did not know how to cry anymore. He stopped in front of her and gave her a shy smile.

“Jon,” She heard herself whisper. He was different… older…but then again so was she.

“Dany,” He repeated. They simply stared. Dany did not know whether to throw herself into his arms and kiss him or give in to this strange reticence that had taken her over. She still felt a million miles away from home… away from him. Quietly, Jon Snow took her bag from her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“It’s good to see you, love,” He whispered and kissed the top of her head, and Dany pressed her face against his solid chest and nodded her agreement, “Come on, I’ve got a cab.”

She felt his hand at the small of her back as he guided her through the train station crowds, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt... safe.

The cab ride was quiet and strained as Dany looked out the window at the streets of London still recovering from the Blitz. She could feel Jon studying her and wondered why he said nothing, and yet she supposed he could be wondering the same of her. As they turned down their street, the jubilant smiles of the train station crowds were traded for deep frowns and sorrowful eyes, as they passed by the dilapidated bakery where they used to take their afternoon tea on Saturdays. It was closed now. They were drawing closer to their home and the bomb damage only grew worse and Dany feared she knew already what Jon had not wished to tell her in his last letter, when he had made it home before her and returned to their place. Her fears were confirmed when they rounded the corner, and the roof of their building was caved. In a daze, she took Jon’s offered hand to help her out of the cab, and he paid the driver.

“It can’t be salvaged,” Jon said in his usual simple and straightforward way, as they stared at what had once been their home. They entered through the surprisingly still intact door. It had not been much to begin with, small and the complete antithesis of what Dany had been used to growing up, but it was theirs and she remembered being happy here. That had been a lifetime ago. Still, she had no tears. Glancing around at the remains of their meager belongings, Dany noticed a sleeping bag on the floor in one of the more intact rooms.

“I’ve been sleeping here since I got back,” Jon explained, “Wanted to save our money for the trip north.”

“Jon…” Dany did not know what to say to that, but the thought of him sleeping here in the cold and the open for the last few weeks caused something in her heart to crack.

“We will get a room for the night though,” He was quick to say. A room for her benefit, she knew, how could she tell him that she had slept in far worse places than this, as she knew had he.

“No, Jon, we need to save,” She said softly, “Its just one night, I’ll be fine here,” Dany met his eyes and quietly added, “… as long as I am with you.”

Jon nodded, and once again pulled her into his arms, and simply held her.

They spent the rest of their evening gathering up what little remained of their belongings and packing them into the few bags they intended to take, before Jon ran out and got some fish and chips for them to eat from a market down the street. Jon had already sold the place, and tomorrow they would head north… to Scotland. Jon was from Scotland… from a little farming village called Wintertown, presided over by Jon’s uncle, Eddard Stark, whose large estate, Winterfell, contained a small cottage which he was giving to them to use for as long as they had need. They would farm. Dany stole a glance at her quiet husband as she took another bite of chips. It had once been her dream to be a writer, and live the city life, but now, after the war and everything that had happened, that dream seemed so empty. She was not sure she had any dreams left in her. She had never farmed, and had never been to Scotland, and felt nerves roiling around in her stomach, as she contemplated coming from one great unknown to another. London, though, was not home anymore either. It was not the same as it had been before the war… and neither was she.

“You are staring at me quite fiercely,” Jon smiled kindly at her. Dany missed their ease and familiarity with one another, from the days when they had been so young and in love.

“Sorry,” She apologized. Hesitantly, he reached for her hand, and she shyly took it. Dany looked into his eyes, he was so painfully familiar and yet so unfathomably alien. Did she know him anymore? Did he know her? Did several years’ worth of love letters, and less than a handful of harried leaves count as a happily married life? Dany did not know, but she squeezed his hand.

“Thank you for dinner,” She said.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Dany smiled at him, “Thank you just the same.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

That night, she half expected him to reach for her, though both of them slept in their everyday clothes, and both were exhausted. It had been so long since they had been together as man and wife. In keeping with her uncertainties of the day, Dany did not know if she was disappointed or not that he had merely kissed her sweetly on the mouth and wrapped his arm about her waist before wishing her goodnight. She wondered if he saw her as broken as she felt. Turning onto her side, she faced him, studying his sleeping face. In sleep, he looked more like the Jon she remembered. Granted, he had grown a beard recently, though she decided that she quite liked it. He had a few new scars on his face that were not there before, and a fleck or two of grey at his hairline. He was too young to have grey hairs… but then again so was she. Before the war, they had whispered together on nights like these about their hopes, and their dreams, about where they would like to go, and what they would like to see, about the future, about their family… about babies. Tomorrow they would go to Scotland, to start a new life and Dany wondered if he still thought of such things… and wondered if she still wanted them. The war had changed so much, had it changed everything?


	2. West Highland Line (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a disclaimer, I am a historian by training, but post-war Europe is not my content specialty, and I do not have time to do extensive historical research, but I hope I'm doing enough to make this realistic, and I hope you can forgive any errors of fact as we move forward. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, the amazing response to the first chapter made me so much more excited about writing this! Thank you for your enthusiasm!

Jon was not beside her when she woke coughing from the dust and the smog. For a moment, as she looked up at the open space that used to be their ceiling, she was afraid she was still in France and yesterday had only been a beautiful dream, but then she saw their broken furniture and the remnants of their life so rudely interrupted by war and remembered she was home… such as it was. Resolving not to waste the morning, and more than a little irritated that Jon had left her alone without even a note as to his whereabouts or when he would return, Dany rose from under the sleeping bag they had shared last night and folded it neatly. Beside his bag lay a haphazard pile of folded shirts, and she noted that a few needed mending. She was not very good at mending. Growing up, she had been taught to embroider in parlors, and to play Mozart on Grand pianos, and when a shirt was ripped, they merely bought a new one. Her father and brother had had plans for her that did not involve marrying a Scottish farmer, no matter whose nephew he was. Jon had rescued her from that life. Lovingly, Dany folded Jon’s shirts, and made mental note to procure a needle and thread.

Dany took precarious steps through the ramshackle building toward the remains of their bedroom. They really did not have much by way of earthly possessions before the war, when they had wed the depression had only just begun to alleviate, but they had other things… better things that made life sweet. There was only one item she wished to find in the rubble: her mother’s locket. When she had moved with her nursing unit close to the front lines, she had left it behind thinking it would be safer. The locket was all she had of her mother, and it was all she knew of her mother, whose death so near to the death of her eldest brother had changed their family. Strange, she thought, how two people whom she had never even met could so profoundly alter the trajectory of her own life.

“Dany?” Jon’s voice called out for her, and she very carefully made her way back to the main room. He smiled kindly at her, and offered her some bread and jam, and a cup of tea.

“It’s not much,” he said, looking almost ashamed and that broke Dany’s heart.

“I’m happy to have it.”

“Rationing is only going to get worse I’m afraid.”

Dany tried to smile for him, “Well, then it’s a good thing we are going north to grow our own food.”

He smiled in return, but his eyes looked sad.

They ate their meager breakfast rather quietly, and Jon did not seem in a hurry. He had made all the plans before she had arrived yesterday, and so she had no idea when their train was leaving, or how they were to get all the way to Wintertown when petrol was still being rationed and many railways were bombed out. She wanted to trust him, but she also wanted to know.

“When does our train leave?”

“At nine,” Jon said simply. It was seven, they did not have much time, “Don’t fret yourself, Dany, we have plenty of time,” he said as if he could read her mind, “Relax, it’s going to be a long day.”

“How long is the train ride?” Dany asked.

“The longest stretch will be from here to Glasgow,” Jon stood and started to gather things, “Then we will take the West Highland Line to Fort William.”

“Then from Fort William?”

“Before the war, there was a bus that would carry you from Fort William to Wintertown.”

He did not know, and that unnerved Dany.

“And if there is no bus?”

“We will sort that out if there is no bus,” Jon, ever practical, replied. Dany nodded and finished her food.

“Is your uncle expecting us so soon?” She asked, not meaning to press but felt she needed to know. Dany had never met Jon’s family, except for his cousin, Robb… sweet Robb, with the auburn hair and laughing eyes. He had managed to come to their wedding, though fast and unplanned as it was.

“The last letter I received from him said that we were welcome to come whenever we were ready, that was two weeks ago, and I replied that we would come as soon as you returned,” He said, “At the time I was not sure when you were getting back, but I sent off another letter as soon as I heard from you, and though I haven’t heard back from him yet he knows we are coming.”

Dany looked down into her teacup and nodded.

“The house will probably need some work,” Jon explained, “The last time I was there it did not have electricity and running water… but… but that’s rather common in the Highlands, the big house did not even have electricity until recently.”

He looked nervous, and so she took his hand.

“I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Jon kissed the back of her hand, “I know you are not.”

As they finished putting away all that they were taking with them, Dany once again went back to the bedroom hoping to find her jewelry box, which was the last place she had seen her mother’s locket. It was strange sifting through the rubble of their bedroom. Most of the walls were still intact, but the ceiling was mostly gone and covered what was their bed where they had loved each other so thoroughly that Dany nearly blushed at the thought.

“Are you looking for something, love?” Jon asked, startling her out of her thoughts.

“When you were going through things before…” She began, “Did you happen to run across my jewelry box?”

“No,” He said, “Was something important in it?”

Dany shook her head, not wanting to tell him that her mother’s locket had been inside. She felt petty for even bringing it up, but it was all she had left of her mother. He nodded, not seeming convinced, but took her hand and led her from their old bedroom.

“We need to make our way to the train station the cab is here.”

While Jon was double checking that he had all of their train tickets, Dany reached for her two bags.

“I can get them, Dany, you go ahead and go get in the cab.”

“Jon, I’m not incapable, I can help you get the bags,” She said.

“I’m just trying to make things easy for you,” He said, not unkindly but somehow it stung.

“I’m just trying to be helpful, we are doing this together aren’t we?” _Weren’t they?_

“It’s my job to look after you,” Jon winced as if he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Dany tried to curb her anger.

“I’m not some little princess that needs to be waited on and looked after,” She said, trying to sound confident, “I just got back from being on my own in France, I think I can manage a few bags without straining myself.” Dany felt her confidence waver, would he come to think she was useless once they made it to Scotland and he realized how little she knew about life there? It felt like all she knew now was bloodied bandages, broken bodies, and death. What did she know about Scotland? About farming? About life? Without saying another word, Dany carried her two bags out to the cab and got in, staring hard out the window. They had not been prone to bicker before the war, and she hated that they were bickering their first morning back together. As the cab drove them toward the train station, Dany kept her eyes fixed out the window, but reached for Jon’s hand. He took it without hesitation.

* * *

A length of the train line to Glasgow had been bombed out and so their train was rerouted to Edinburgh. It was not a long train ride from Edinburgh to Glasgow, but it added time to the already arduous journey. The sun had long been set, as they pulled out of the Glasgow station toward Fort William. Dany stared hard out the train window trying to see Jon’s Scotland. He had always spoken of it fondly, and Dany had always imagined it to be something of a magical kingdom, where bagpipes could always be faintly heard in the distance and fairies still resided in the glens. Unfortunately, Dany could barely see a thing. She looked over at Jon in the seat beside her, his eyes had drifted closed, but she could tell he was still awake.

“How long from Glasgow to Fort William?”

His eyes fluttered open, and she felt guilty for rousing him, as she noted how tired he looked. He had only been home for a few weeks before her and had spent most of that time preparing for her return and getting their new life in order. Like her, he had spent the last year of the war in France. He had been on the beach at Normandy. She remembered the letter she had received from him just before that fateful day, after which she had feared she might never see him again. Her nursing unit in Italy had been transferred to France not long after, and all Dany remembered was death. She remembered littered bodies on stretchers… British troops, American troops, troops whose language she did not share, and even German troops. Absentmindedly, she wondered how many people Jon had killed… just as she thought of the thousands she had helped patch back together.

“A few hours,” Jon responded, sleepily. They had not gotten a bunk on any of their trains. The sleeping cars were more expensive and they had both agreed that they were trying to save, and could easily sleep in their seats, but as Dany looked at Jon’s handsome, drawn face she wished they had spent the extra money, so he could sleep in a bed. They were alone in their little passenger car, and so with a quick look about her, Dany gave him a hesitant smile, moving slowly in case he protested, she climbed into his lap. Without saying a word, Jon only smiled and pulled her close, cradling her across the seat. His hand sunk into her hair urging her to rest her head against his shoulder. He kissed her forehead, keeping one hand in her hair, and the other resting at her waist. They were quiet for a few moments, before Dany tentatively pressed a soft kiss against his neck.

“Will you wear a kilt for me when we get to Wintertown?” She could not help but tease. Jon threw back his head and laughed, and Dany felt something in her frozen heart begin to melt. She had not realized how much she had missed the sound of his laughter.

He glanced down at her, eyes dark with more than just mirth, “Aye, love, I’ll wear anything you’d like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Cottage, and the Starks


	3. Wintertown (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally part of the cottage and meeting the stark chapter, but I decided I wanted to switch POVs for meeting the Starks, so here is this little chapter, and we will meet the Starks next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks so much for you reading and for your comments!

Jon woke with a mouthful of silvery, gold hair and Dany’s head resting on his shoulder. They had gotten into Fort William too late… or rather too early for the bus to Wintertown, and as it had been nearly dawn, they had simply decided to sit on the bench and wait for morning. Dany had fallen asleep. Jon had not. There were nights during the war, terrible nights, when Jon had feared he would never hold her in his arms again. He looked down at her and saw her eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” He offered her a smile, and in the early morning fog, he saw the cool reserve and broken eyes gone from her in exchange for the Dany he remembered, eyes sparkling and full of life once again. He did not want to move for fear the moment would slip from them, lost forever in the great abyss of moving forward… but move they must.

“The bus will be here soon,” Jon said, apologetically, “I’m afraid there is no time to find breakfast.”

She reached up with a shy smile and stroked his bearded cheek, “It’s alright, we can scrounge up something once we get to Wintertown, yes?”

“Yes,” Jon agreed, and they stood and began to gather their things.

Jon left Dany to guard their luggage while he went to purchase their tickets. The line was not long, and when he got up to the counter the clerk was much to cheerful for so early a morning.

“Taking your sweetheart to Loch Ness then, lad?” The red-faced, rotund man bellowed.

“No… Wintertown,” Jon said simply, just as his eye caught some packages of shortbread being sold at the counter. He grabbed two packages and added them to his purchase.

“Wintertown?” The clerk laughed.

“Aye, two for the first bus to Wintertown.”

“Don’t get many going all the way up to Wintertown these days, not that ever there were,” The clerk laughed again, and gave Jon his tickets, “What takes you all the way up there?”

Jon sighed, “Going home.”

When Jon walked back toward where he had left Dany, he saw an elderly couple sitting on their bench, and Dany sitting on their luggage, watching passersby, looking like a lost little girl. He could not help but smile. She had not caught sight of him yet, and for a moment he simply watched her. Somehow, she was both a stranger and the most familiar person in the world to him, and he did not know how she could be both. Pulling himself from his reverie, he strode toward her. Just as he approached, he saw her eyes following a pregnant woman who passed by her and his heart constricted in his chest. He pretended not to notice. She smiled up at him when she finally saw him standing there. Jon offered her the shortbread he had purchased at the counter.

“Bus will be here any minute.”

Dany nodded, and opened the shortbread package and offered him a piece, but he silently indicated that he had bought another package for himself.

“I think I’ve been asked three times, in the ten minutes you were gone, if I was going to Loch Ness to catch a glimpse of Nessie,” Dany chuckled.

“Aye, Nessie draws quite a lot of attention,” Jon grinned at her, and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear which seemed to take her off guard. She smoothed her hands across her skirt.

“So, am I to understand that you are taking me to live on a mountain infested with monsters?” Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Not the mountain,” Jon teased, “Only the Lochs.”

Dany smiled up at him, with an endearing pink to her cheeks. God, how he had missed her.

“There is actually a ruined castle up beside Loch Ness, called Urquart, you’d like it,” Jon said, “I’ll take you there once we’re settled.”

“I would enjoy that very much.”

“But first, I’m going to show you Winterfell,” Jon smiled, hoping it was reassuring. He knew Dany loved the city and the hustle and bustle of London. Her friends had been there, her dreams had been there… not to mention her estranged family. When they had wed, he had never intended to take her so far away from everything she held dear. He was not sure how she felt about being carried off to Scotland, but there was nothing to be done for it… they had to have work and a roof over their heads… they had to find a way to live.

* * *

The road to Wintertown was desolate and much narrower than he remembered, and almost every other passenger would be going to either Loch Ness or Inverness, while he and Dany disembarked to the more northernly Wintertown. Jon watched Dany as Dany’s eyes were glued to the view outside her window.

“Everything is so green and alive,” She whispered almost reverently. Jon smiled to himself. He wanted her to love Scotland… so badly. “Did you miss it terribly?” Dany suddenly asked.

“Wintertown?” He asked, though he knew.

“Yes.”

Jon sighed, “Not so much before… but now, yes.” He did not have to explain, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew. Jon laced their fingers together, before hesitantly adding his own question, “Did you…” he could not meet her eyes, “Did you miss London?”

Dany looked away from him for a moment and back out the window, “Sometimes,” She admitted, before smiling, “I feel like I can breathe up here, the air in London is so dirty.”

Jon gave her hand a squeeze, wondering if she was putting on a brave face for him. He had always known her to be brave. He loved that about her, but right now it also scared him.

The bus did not seem to be able to leave fast enough, as Jon and Dany hurriedly got off at their stop. Jon took a deep breath and turned to face the village he had grown up in, the village he had not thought to live in ever again. He felt Dany’s small hand slip into his for a moment before she hefted both her bags, and he grabbed both of his own.

“How far is Winterfell?”

“To far to walk with all of our luggage, but there is a pub just a wee bit up the road here,” Jon said and started to walk, beckoning her to follow, “We can try to telephone the house and see if Uncle Ned or someone can bring the car down, the telephone lines here are rarely reliable, if we can’t reach them, we will leave the luggage at the pub with the owners, and walk.”

“Lead the way then, Mr. Snow,” Dany grinned at him, and they trudged across the muddy road, before Dany exclaimed, “Oh, bloody hell!”

“That is quite a mouth you’ve developed there, Mrs. Snow, one would almost think you’ve been in the army,” Jon laughed and turned to find her ankle deep in thick mud, her shoes not made for such conditions. Dany just shook her head at him.

“I knew I should have worn my boots, but they are a little worse for wear…from, from France, and did not seem appropriate for train travel,” Dany sighed.

“I’d throw you over my shoulder, and carry you, but…” Jon laughed and indicated his hands occupied by their luggage.

“Another time perhaps,” she evaded, with a chuckle.

“Aye, another time.”

She said nothing in response, but that adorable hue of pink returned to her cheeks.

“You’ll just have to wrench it free I’m afraid,” Jon instructed. Dany did just that, but instead of pulling her shoe free of the mud, she only managed to free her foot from her shoe. Jon was about to put the bags down and come to her aid, when she merely slipped off her other shoe, before reaching down and yanking the other free, and trudging through the mud, which muddied her stockings. She seemed completely unperturbed by such a thing.

“We can clean the shoes up,” Jon offered.

“I was never very fond of those shoes anyway,” Dany said with a brave grin, “Lead on.”

Dany walked barefoot to the pub, and when they got there she sat down on the step, opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of boots, that were indeed worse for wear. Jon watched as she took off her muddied stockings and stuffed them down in her muddied shoes, and donned a pair of sturdy boots, one of which a rather large hole around her small toe.

“We’re getting you a new pair of boots,” Jon stated simply.

“Jon that can wait until tomorrow or next week or next month,” She said, in exasperation, “Right now, I just want to go home.”

Jon nodded.

“Now, I will sit here with the bags, while you go inside and use the telephone.”

Jon left her on the steps of Tormund’s Pub, and went inside. The place had not changed much since he had left all those years ago. It was strange how much the same it was, when he felt so different.

“Jon fucking Snow!” A voice bellowed, and Jon whipped around to see a burly red-headed man half-limping, half-barreling toward him.

“Tormund!” Jon exclaimed, just as the big man who was twice his size threw his arms around him and squeezed him so tight Jon was not sure he had any breath left in his lungs.

“I never thought I’d see you in these parts again!”

“Nor did I, in truth,” Jon admitted evenly. Tormund studied his face.

“War will do that to you, make you yearn for home, make you want what you always thought you could do without,” Tormund patted his own leg, a wound he had taken in the Great War. As far as Jon knew, Tormund had not left the mountain since.

“Aye,” was all Jon could think to say. The two men stared at each other for a moment in silent understanding. Finally, Jon asked, “May I use your phone?”

“Anything for you, Snow,” Tormund led him back to the phone, and Jon got connected to the Winterfell line. No one answered. Jon hung up and sighed.

“Come have a pint with me, and we can try’em again later,” Tormund offered.

“I’ll have to take you up on that pint another time, Tormund,” Jon said kindly, and inclined his head toward the window where he could see Dany sitting on the step. Tormund looked and grinned broadly.

“Ah, I see, you have brought a girl home with ya, to meet the family,” Tormund laughed and studied Dany, “She is a wee little slip of a thing.”

Jon chuckled, “She’s my wife.” The word still felt a bit foreign on his lips.

“Your wife?” Tormund laughed again, and clapped Jon on the shoulder, and moved toward the door, “Come on then, my car’s in Tolett’s shop, but I’ve got the horse and buggy, we can carry little Lady Snow up to the big house no problem.”

“Tormund, I couldn’t ask you to leave work on my account,” Jon tried to dissuade him, but Tormund would have none of it.

“It’s not like business is booming,” Tormund said, and waved his hand at the empty pub, “Besides, my cousin…” Tormund playfully elbowed him in the ribs, “You remember my cousin, I expect… She’s in the back and can keep an eye the place.”

“Aye, I remember your cousin,” Jon admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, and wondered what manner of tales he and Dany were in for on the ride up to Winterfell.

“Come on then,” Tormund urged, and Jon followed him out to the porch, where he had left Dany. Dany stood and sweetly smiled at them, looking adorably mismatched in her worn and holey boots contrasted with the light blue knee length skirt she wore, with wisps of her blonde hair falling from her braid. It had become the fashion for women to cut their hair short, but Dany had not cut hers. Jon was glad. he wanted to run his fingers through it, and nearly blushed at the rogue thought.

“Dany, this is Tormund, an old friend, Tormund this is my wife, Daenerys.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Dany held her hand out to shake his, but Tormund threw his arms around Dany and hugged her. Jon winced, but smiled.

“Tormund is going to take us up to Winterfell,” Jon explained.

“Thank you,” Dany said, sweetly.

“Don’t you mention it,” Tormund bellowed, “Let me pull the buggy around.”

A bit later, Tormund had the buggy in front of the pub, and he and Jon hefted the luggage in the back. Without ceremony, Tormund lifted Dany into the buggy. Jon tried not to laugh at her surprised face, and hoped she was not insulted by Tormund’s brashness.

“On to Winterfell then,” Tormund urged the two horses into motion. Tormund talked, telling Dany stories about bears and the occasional yarn of the Loch Ness monster, but Jon watched Dany’s eyes studying the town and wondered what she was thinking. Did she regret being dragged to a place that seemed to be fifty years behind the rest of the world? It was 1945, and they were riding in a horse and buggy toward their home. If this perturbed her, there was no outward sign. Jon watched the buildings roll past them, few had changed, and Jon wondered if Wintertown was somehow frozen in time. To look about them, none would be the wiser that a massive war had enveloped the continent only a day by train away.

“That there is the Frey’s bridge,” Tormund chuckled pointing out the stone bridge leading off toward the south of town and the other side of the river, “They like to charge tourists a toll for crossing,” He bellowed like that was the greatest joke in town. Jon looked at the bridge… perhaps it was.

“Do you get many tourists?” Dany asked, naïvely. Jon smiled, sadly.

“Every so often we get a hiker on the search for a standing stone, or a cave drawing or two, but mostly the tourists leave us be, but what with the depression and then the war on, I don’t think we’ve seen a tourist since 1935,” Tormund explained. Dany nodded, and Jon once again wondered what she was thinking of this place. This place, this town… it was a part of him… could she come to love it too?

“Along the south side of the river, is the Frey’s land, and then the Tully’s,” Tormund explained, “Jon’s Aunt Cat was a Tully, before she married into the big house.”

“Aunt Cat is my Uncle Ned’s wife,” Jon explained to Dany. Dany nodded.

“All kissed by fire that lot,” Tormund laughed. Dany looked confused.

“Red haired,” Jon translated with a chuckle.

“Lady Sansa’s got the worst of it,” Tormund laughed, “The hair and the temper.”

“Sansa’s my cousin…Robb’s sister,” Jon said, nearly tripping over Robb’s name. Jon glanced up and saw Roslin Tully, heavily pregnant, walking up toward the Tully land. He wondered when Edmure had returned. He thought about calling out to her, but when he glanced back at Dany, she looked so weary that he decided not to make any more stops. They were nearly home.

They crested a hill, and Winterfell came into view. Tormund stopped the carriage. Jon saw Dany’s mouth drop open.

“Jon,” She started in awe, “That’s a castle.”

“Aye,” He chuckled.

“One of the oldest still inhabited castles in the region,” Tormund explained.

“You never told me Winterfell was an actual castle,” Dany looked over at him.

“He’s not one for so many words, this one,” Tormund teased before urging the team of horses forward, and Dany just looked at Jon, her eyes gentle. He wondered, not for the first time today, what she was thinking. There had been a time, when she had not guarded her thoughts so fiercely, but that was another time. Jon looked up at the big house, as it was affectionately called by the locals… He had feared he would never see it again… Winterfell.


	4. Cottages and Castles (Dany)

As the castle came closer into view, Dany felt her stomach tighten. She had not expected to meet Jon’s family straight away, in her holey boots, hair askew, and travel wrinkled clothes, but, alas, the meeting was inevitable. Dany squared her shoulders and watched as the castle drew closer. Dany tried to be brave, but inside she felt lost, and noted that Jon looked completely at ease. Of course he was, he was coming home. Dany could only hope there was a place for her here. Tormund stopped the buggy and got down and before he could turn and lift Dany from the buggy, Jon was lifting her out himself, with a playful shake of his head to his large, red-headed friend.

“Jon Snow,” came a kind voice. They turned to see an older man approaching them with a smile on his face.

“Davos,” Jon embraced the man.

“Look at you, all grown up,” Davos smiled at Dany, “When he left here, he was scarcely more than a lad,” he shook Dany’s hand, “I dare say, you played a part in making him a man.”

_Or the war did_, she thought sadly. Dany looked over at Jon and remembered the starry-eyed boy he had been when they first met. He had always been quiet and serious, but once those beautiful grey eyes had been full of hope, but now, she noted, they were sad.

“Jon!”

“Jon!”

“Jon!”

A chorus of voices echoed across the courtyard. An auburn-haired boy, about thirteen, flung himself into Jon’s embrace. Another young man, in a wheelchair, came closer. A woman not much younger than Dany, with ice blue eyes, leapt into Jon’s arms and Jon held her tight, his face overcome with emotion. These were Jon’s cousins, Robb’s siblings, Dany realized as she watched the scene. Two other women, and a little boy, about four, with auburn hair and big blue eyes, came outside as well, but Dany could not surmise who they were. As an older couple came into the courtyard and approached Jon, Dany sidled, nervously, a little closer to Tormund, as she realized this was Lord and Lady Stark. They all embraced and chattered, and Dany did not know how to act.

“Dany,” Jon called for her, holding his hand out to her. She tried to look confident as she came to his side. Jon was smiling proudly as he introduced her, “This is my wife, Daenerys.”

“Hello,” Dany offered everyone a smile, “Please call me Dany.”

“This is my aunt and uncle, Eddard and Catelyn Stark,” Jon began to introduce them, and to her surprise Catelyn hugged her.

“My cousins, Bran, Rickon, and Sansa,” Jon went down the line, “Davos and his wife Marya, and J-Jeyne Stark.” Jon seemed to stumble over Jeyne’s name, before offering a kind smile to the little boy, “And this, I am assuming is Neddy.” The little boy hid shyly behind Jeyne Stark’s legs. No one made an explanation, but she imagined these two to be Robb’s wife and son, as she knew he had a wife and son, but where was Robb?

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all,” Dany said calmly, though her heart was hammering in her chest.

“Is it true that you really went to France too? With Jon?” Rickon blurted out.

Dany did not know what to say, “Well, not with Jon… but, but yes, I went to France.”

“I wanted to fight,” Rickon said. Dany said nothing in response and marveled at how little the war had seemed to touch this place.

“Be glad you were too young, Rickon,” Catelyn said sternly. Dany noticed Sansa regarding her coolly, and so Dany stiffened her spine, and tried not to quake under her scrutiny.

“You two must be tired,” Ned said, and Dany studied Jon’s uncle, and was struck with how similar they looked. Jon had the definite look of the Starks, “Davos and I will take you down to the cottage, and then we will see about supper.”

Jon agreed, and they said their thanks and goodbyes to Tormund, while Ned and Davos gathered up their luggage before Jon could protest.

The cottage was small but felt homey and peaceful in a way that Dany had not expected when Jon had first described it too her. She was surprised to find it so clean. Jon had told her it had not been lived in in decades.

“Sansa came up when we received your letter, and cleaned the place up as best she could,” Ned explained, as if he could read Dany’s mind. The walls were all made of stone, which made the house quite cold, but there was a large fireplace in the center of the main room which Davos was lighting. Dany could feel Jon’s eyes on her as she studied the house and wondered what he was thinking.

“We are hoping to get the water pipelines, and electric lines extended from the big house down here, but it’s taking longer than we expected,” Ned explained apologetically, as he began to lead them through the house. The kitchen was connected to the main room and had a large window that overlooked what Dany knew would be their garden. There was a carved wooden table, and in the main room was a beautiful rocking chair carved with the same wood.

Ned put a hand on the rocking chair, “Most of the furniture was Lyanna’s,” _Jon’s mother_, Dany knew without having to be told.

Ned eyes were dark and sad, “Catelyn and Sansa found it up at the big house, some of it may need refinishing, but it’s all well-made and sturdy.”

Dany ran her hands along the hand-crafted cabinets, and the cool stone walls. Dany had grown up in a town house in London, and spent summers in rented estates in the countryside, and none of them had the fine details, and solid craftsmanship expressed in this cottage. Dany felt like she had stepped into a story book, a storybook of strong highlanders living and loving up here so far removed from all the chaos and pain caused by sordid governments, poverty, and wars. She wondered who had built this place and wondered if fairies did in fact exist here on this mountain. She followed Ned and Jon through the rest of the little house. Off the kitchen and main room, there were three doors, one was their room, in which was a large four poster bed, that according to Ned, had belonged to Lyanna. The second room possessed a large copper bathtub and the rest was mainly crates, one of which Dany had not known Jon had salvaged from their home in London and shipped.

“I’m not entirely sure what is in these other crates,” Ned said, “But Sansa and Jeyne searched through the attic at the big house and found items that they thought might help you set up housekeeping, dishes, and blankets and the like, you are welcome to keep or toss out whatever you want.”

Dany smiled; their kindness was overwhelming. Opening the third door, revealed a mostly empty room, except for a lovely dresser, and a cradle. Ned ran his hand along the cradle.

“This has been in the Stark family for several generations,” He smiled kindly, “Sansa will want it for her children, I expect, should that day ever come, and Neddy has outgrown it, but we assumed…” He paused, “We figured the two of you may have need of it, before anyone else at the big house.”

Jon took Dany’s hand, “Thank you, Uncle Ned.”

“Everything is beautiful,” Dany whispered softly. Jon smiled at her.

“Now, we will leave you to get settled,” Ned said as he led the way back to the front door, “Catelyn wanted me to make sure to invite you to the big house for supper, but also to let you know that if you are too tired after traveling so far, she can send supper down here to you, and you can be our guest another day.”

Dany did not know what to say but felt Jon’s eyes on her. Jon quickly thanked Ned and took the offer for supper to be sent down to them. Davos said he would return soon with supper in tow. They shut the front door with an odd sort of finality, leaving Jon and Dany alone to stare at each other in the middle of their new home.

“What are you thinking?” Dany asked, unable to bare his silence for a moment longer.

“I know the house needs work,” Jon started, running a hand through his hair.

“We knew that before we came,” Dany reminded him, not sure why he was bringing it up now, “I think it’s lovely… it is the type of place I wanted to run away too when I was a little girl.”

Jon gave her that endearing half smile of his, “I’m sorry there is no electricity, or running water yet.”

“That can’t be helped, Jon, you don’t need to apologize,” Dany took his hand.

“Still…” Jon started, “I know it’s not what you were used too… before.”

Dany flinched, and pulled her hand out of his, “Those types of things hardly matter now…. Not after… after France… after everything.”

Jon stubbornly reached for her hand again, “I know… I’m sorry.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand but could not bring herself to look him in the eye, “I’m just happy to be here with you,” She confessed quietly, and he pulled her into his arms, and kissed her softly on the mouth.

“As am I, love.” They put their luggage away in their bedroom in relative silence while they waited for Davos to bring supper. Dany studied Jon’s profile, his pretty dark curls and kind eyes, and wondered if they would ever return to the ease and familiarity that they enjoyed with each other before the war, had the war changed them forever?

* * *

Davos returned with super, and Dany laid it out on the table while Jon and Davos spoke, she was not intending to eavesdrop, but it was a small house, and the kitchen and main room were practically the same room.

“After you’ve eaten, if you are up for it I can take you out to look at the fences of your pasture,” Davos said, “Ned has some sheep we are about to send to market at Inverness, but he wanted to delay until you arrived in case you wanted to buy a few to get your herd started.”

“Thank you, Davos,” Jon said.

“There are a few in the herd being sold, that could be bred and provide a nice start for you,” Davos explained, “I can point them out to you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for everything,” Jon said kindly, “After supper, I will make sure Dany is settled then I will come find you and see about the fences.”

With that said, Jon ushered Davos out and came into the kitchen, and he, almost hesitantly, wrapped his arms about her waist.

“Smells good,” he said. She offered him a bite from the spoon she was holding.

“Better savor it now, as you well know, my cooking skills are quite lacking,” Dany grinned at him, “And I am afraid they have not improved in the intervening years.”

Jon kissed her cheek, and chuckled, “Anything is better than army food, I’d imagine.”

“Yes,” Dany agreed softly.

“I’m going out with Davos after dinner to inspect our fences, will you be alright here alone?” Jon asked. Dany refrained from rolling her eyes.

“Yes, Jon, I will be alright,” She said firmly, “I was thinking I’d pull that copper tub in front of the fire, and bathe.”

Jon swallowed, “Alright.”

After they were done eating, Jon helped her pull the tub in front of the fireplace and showed her the well where she could get water. He took one last look over his shoulder at her and then the tub, and she almost wondered if he was going to change his mind and stay. Dany offered him a smile.

“Go,” She insisted, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will be fine,” Jon got an impish look in his eyes, “I don’t know if I will be… thinking about you here washing in that tub.”

Dany blushed in spite of herself, and ducked her eyes, “Jon Snow, go inspect our fences,” and teasingly added, “I shall be very cross with you if our sheep get out.”

Jon chuckled and disappeared.

Dany found that there was no fast or easy way to lug the water from the well, and heat it, but she determined that even if her bath was cold, she was not going to be defeated in her purpose. She did not know how people lived like this everyday a hundred years ago and shook her head at herself for being such a city-girl, and such a child of the modern age.

“I can do this,” She said to herself, as she managed to get her last bucket of water brought up to the house and over the fire to be heated. She felt the water in the tub, it was already lukewarm, and not as full as she would have liked, but it would have to do. Dany pulled out a few of Jon’s shirts that needed mending, intending to take care of those when she was finished bathing, and then retrieved her silken night robe and gown, which she had bought years ago when they had married and managed to keep it through all of this time. Most of her finer clothes that she had brought into marriage from her previous life had either been lost in the bombings or disposed of in exchange for more practical attire. Dany did not mind. She was by nature a practical person when she needed to be, however, she had been unable to part with this particular nightgown, as she had recalled the way Jon’s eyes had gotten big and dark when he saw her in it on their wedding night. It was not fancy, just simple white silk draped down to the floor, with some lace about her waist, tying in the back. Jon had loved it, and she recalled with a blush, how much he had loved taking it off of her that night. She lay the nightgown and robe on the rocking chair and got in the tub. It had taken so long to get the bath ready, she imagined Jon would be home soon, and so she tried to hurry and wash both her body and hair, but as she sank into the warm water she realized for the first time the toll all her travels had taken on her. For a moment, after she had finished rinsing, her eyes drifted close.

* * *

Dany woke startled by the closing of the door, and realized she was still in the bath and it was freezing.

“Shite, Dany, I’m sorry, I can come back,” Jon started to bolt back outside.

She sat up swiftly, arms instinctively moving to cover her breasts, but she dropped them when she thought about how ridiculous that was, “Jon!”

He stopped.

“You don’t have to go,” She said with a chuckle, “It’s not like you have not seen it all before,” She saw him swallow hard as he turned back around and look at her, “Can you hand me the towel?”

Jon silently came to her and held the towel up for her. Once she was wrapped in it, he rubbed her arms to help her get warm. When her teeth stopped chattering, Jon pulled back a bit.

“I’m going to make some tea,” He said, and retrieved a water kettle. Dany dried herself, and donned her nightgown and robe, while Jon bent over the fireplace tending to the tea.

She sat down in the rocking chair, not sure what to say as there was still so much unsaid between them right now and began to braid her hair.

“Leave it loose,” Jon, voice deep and soft, suddenly pleaded, “Please?”

Dany smiled tenderly and nodded. She combed her fingers through the long locks and could feel Jon’s eyes on her as he finished making their tea. He came to her then and handed her a cup… prepared exactly the way she liked it.

“Thank you,” Dany said, and he kissed the top of her head, lingering above her for a moment.

Dany had to giggle, “Are you smelling my hair, Jon?”

“You always smell nice,” He said. Dany tried not to flinch at the compliment and was grateful he had never seen, or smelled, her on the worst days in France. She took a sip of her tea as he sat down across from her, drinking his own cup. Seeming, unable to keep his hands to himself, he brushed some stray hair back away from her shoulder.

“What happened?” His soft voice suddenly asked, and Dany felt his finger gently brush over the scar just below her neckline. She had forgotten about it. Self-consciously, she pulled her robe tighter around her, covering the scar.

“How did you find the fences?” She asked abruptly changing the subject. Jon did not push her for answers.

“They are well in hand, ready for sheep I think,” Jon said, “There’s only a few places that still need mending that I can take care of, and hopefully by this time next week we can get our own herd going.”

“Are you going to buy the sheep Davos suggested?” She asked, wanting him to know that she cared about their farm and how they were going to run it.

“Probably, I think we can make a good start with them.”

Dany could only nod, feeling out of her depth, she had no idea how to raise sheep or grow vegetables, but she did not want Jon to think her incapable. Jon took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s going to be alright, love.”

“I know,” Dany tried to sound stronger than she felt.

“You’d tell me…” Jon’s voice trailed off.

“Tell you what?”

Jon ran his hands through his hair, “Nothing… I just don’t want you to be worried that’s all.”

“I’m not worried,” Dany said, “I trust you.” _Did she trust him?_

Jon gave her a gentle smile, stood, and offered her his hand, “I’m going to make an early start in the morning. Come to bed with me?”

Dany bit her lip, suddenly feeling apprehensive, “I… I was going to mend some of your shirts…” She pointed to the pile of his shirts she had made earlier.

“You don’t have to do that…” He started to say, but she stopped him.

“I want to be useful Jon,” Dany said, more harshly than she meant. He merely nodded, kissed her, and took himself to bed. Dany sat up for a long while after he had gone to bed, lost in thought, and with only one shirt mended.


	5. Ghosts in the Woods (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite as pleased with this chapter as some of my others, as I felt like it was a little boring, but it does have some important information in it, so I hope it is not disappointing. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your comments, and for reading!

The morning sun shone through the bedroom window and woke Jon bright and early. He stretched his arm and was happy to find Dany in bed beside him in that sweet nightgown she had kept since their wedding night all those years ago. He looked over at her. Her back was facing him, and very slowly he scooted a little closer and brushed his fingertips down the exposed skin of her arm… still so soft. Davos would be there soon to take him to see the sheep, but Jon could not seem to pull himself from the bed as he studied his wife. Dany began to stir, and Jon was not sure if he should pull away and let her have her space or draw her close to him. She rolled over onto her back and gave him the softest of smiles, her sleepy morning eyes twinkling as the dawn sun peeked through the windowpanes.

“Hello,” Dany said and the sweetness in her voice nearly broke his heart. Reaching up, she gently stroked his bearded cheek. He had never worn a beard before, and he wondered if it bothered her. Keeping his eyes on hers, Jon moved a little closer. Carefully, he flattened his palm against her stomach and felt it quiver under his hand. Still, she said nothing just looked into his eyes. The imminent arrival of Davos temporarily forgotten, Jon leaned down and kissed her, his other arm slipping around her shoulders to cradle her against him. He brought the hand that had been resting on her stomach up to cup her cheek as he deepened the kiss. When she opened her mouth, ever so slightly, Jon heard himself nearly whimper. Dany sank her hand into his hair, and he pressed his aching body against her hip. Jon ran his hand down the silk of her nightgown and being careful to be very gentle he cupped her breast, causing her to gasp almost inaudibly into his mouth.

Both Jon and Dany nearly leapt upright, when a loud knock sounded upon their door. Jon’s heart hammered in chest. Davos. Only Davos. Still alarmingly quiet, Dany quickly got out of bed, face red, and looking flustered. He wanted to talk to her, but another knock came to the door. Jon hurriedly threw on his shirt, and went out to answer, being sure to close their bedroom door as Dany started to dress for the day. When Jon opened their front door, Davos stood before him, looking as if he had already been awake for hours. He handed Jon a basket.

“Marya sent breakfast and coffee for you and the Mrs.,” Davos grinned.

“Thank you, Davos, come in,” Jon ushered him inside and sat the basket on their table and began to set out food for Dany.

“We can head up and see the sheep first thing, and then I’d be happy to help you with any of the final mending of the fences,” Davos said, kindly.

“I’d be most appreciative of the help, but I’m sure you have plenty of responsibilities to tend too,” Jon said, and poured coffee for Dany, preparing it the way he remembered that she liked. “Nothing too pressing this morning,” Davos grinned, “In fact, Ned even said that he wanted to come out to the pastures with us when you look at the sheep.”

Jon was almost embarrassed by the extraordinary kindness of everyone here, but that had always been Ned Stark’s way, it was a way Jon had always tried to emulate. Dany appeared a moment later, ready for the day and only putting some final pins in her hair.

“After I eat something, Davos, Ned and I are going to look at the sheep,” Jon informed her, “Would you like to come along? Or maybe, you’d like to spend some time up at the big house? I’m sure Sansa, Jeyne and Aunt Cat would love to have company.”

Dany took a sip of her coffee, “I was planning to do a little shopping for us today, so that people won’t have to feed us forever,” She smiled kindly at Davos who chuckled.

“We can certainly drop you at Lannister’s store,” Davos said.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to be any trouble, I thought I might walk since it seems to be quite fine out,” Dany said, “Do you think the two of you might pick me up from the store though?”

“Yes, I think we can manage that,” Davos said. Davos gave her detailed directions to the store, and arranged the time for picking her up, while Jon finished his breakfast. After she finished eating, Jon watched as his wife bustled around the kitchen making decisions about what kinds of food they should store up for the next few days, and making a list.

“Do you need anything, Jon?” She asked.

“Oh, no, I’m happy with whatever you would like.”

She nodded.

“You might check and see if they have ice for sale at the store, they do sometimes,” Davos suggested, “With some buckets and ice you can keep food cold for the day. Any cold food stuffs that you need to last longer, you might see if they can store it at the big house. We will hopefully get the electricity lines up here soon. Electricity is a little bit easier to install than the indoor plumbing, but as with everything up in these mountains, it’s a work in progress.”

“Thank you, I had not thought of ice buckets,” Dany said, and scratched another note upon her list. Davos and Jon cleaned up the basket Marya had sent and got ready to leave for the day.

“You sure you will find the store alright?” Jon asked, as he opened the front door to leave.

“I’ll be fine, Jon, really,” She said.

“Alright then.”

“Jon…” She halted him before he could escape.

“Yes?”

“Can I… can I speak to you for a moment?”

The hesitance in her voice gave him some concern, “Yes.”

“I’ll just be out in the car,” said Davos and disappeared outside.

Jon went to Dany.

“What is it?”

“Um… I hate to ask…” She started, awkwardly, “But I… when I go to the store, I think I may need some money…I have some from my-my last pay, but I don’t think it will be enough.”

Jon cursed at himself. He had carried their money on their trip North, but had meant to show her where he kept it last night, but when he had returned to the cabin and she had been in the bath then in that nightgown of hers, it had completely slipped his mind.

“I’m so sorry,” He took her by the hand and led her to where he had stashed it in their bedroom, “I meant to show you last night, I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to ask.”

She smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Perhaps we should look into starting a savings account,” Dany said.

“Aye, that would be a good idea,” Jon said, “Next time we go to Inverness we can look into it,” Jon leaned down and kissed her soundly on the mouth, “Have a good day, love, I’ll see you later, I should not be home late.”

“Alright,” She said softly, and waved him off at the door of the house.

* * *

Jon, Ned, Davos, Rickon, and Robb’s old chum, Theon, who worked for Ned, went out to look at the sheep. Jon had selected fifteen animals to get his herd started, hoping that that would be enough to get him and Dany through the winter, Ned gave him a more than fair price, and it was agreed that the sheep would be brought to Jon’s field on the morrow when they moved the rest Ned was selling to market. After looking at the sheep, Davos returned home to take lunch with Marya, promising to pick up Jon from the big house afterward so that they could retrieve Dany from the store. Ned, Rickon, Theon and Jon walked back to the big house through the woods.

“What was the army like, Jon?” Rickon bounded beside him. Jon did not know what to say, as his mind conjured images of beaches littered with bodies, and bombs exploding in minefields.

“Hard work,” Jon said, trying to give Rickon a smile.

“I had the best time of my life in the army,” Theon said, with a puffed-out chest and a haughty smile.

“Didn’t you stay in London?” Rickon asked, and Theon at least had the decency to blush.

“Well, yes… but I was still serving…”

Ned patted Theon’s shoulder, “Yes, you were, son, and what you were doing was important work too,” He affirmed the younger man, and Jon smiled to himself at the ease, with which Ned fathered the young people in his care. Jon hoped that he could be like Ned one day… the thought of children, however, gave him pause. What did he know about bringing new life into the world?

“Jon was in France,” Rickon pressed, as if Theon did not know, “I want to hear about France.”

“France, I imagine, was nice before the war,” Jon tried.

“Nice wine, I’m sure,” Theon smirked, “And nice girls.”

Jon had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, he had forgotten how little common ground he and Theon shared. Theon had always been Robb’s friend. The mere thought of Robb renewed Jon's melancholy.

“I think Arya was in France,” Rickon said simply.

“Where is Arya?” Jon asked with a smile, “I know I’ve only been back for a day, but I thought I would have seen her by now.”

Ned and Theon both paused and exchanged a look.

“Ned?” Jon felt his stomach sink, “Ned, where is Arya?”

Ned halted their woodland procession and turned to face Jon. Rickon’s face fell.

“Arya,” Ned put a hand on his shoulder, “Arya has been missing since the summer of ’44.”

“No one told me,” Jon heard himself whisper, feeling a keen sense of betrayal, “How could no one tell me?”

“It happened not long after we had heard you were a part of the Normandy invasion,” Ned explained, “We did not want to worry you… we have kept up hope of hearing from her, but to no avail. We filed a missing person report with the army, but there are so many displaced people right now.”

Jon could see Arya’s face in his mind as if it were yesterday, her inquisitive grey eyes and dark hair… her mischievous smile when she nettled Sansa.

“Where was she?” Jon asked.

“We’re not sure,” Ned said, “She was always so secretive about everything she was doing.”

“Is anything being done?”

“The army is doing what they can, but as I said, these things take time,” Ned said, giving his shoulder a squeeze, his own voice choked with emotion, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.”

Jon nodded, not knowing what to say. He wanted to rage, but at what? At Ned for keeping this from him? At the government for not being able to maintain peace and order? At Hitler and the Germans? Had he not killed enough of them and still found no solace? Jon shook his head, so much death… could there be life after all of this?

The four men stood in silence, each with his own thoughts, when Jon heard a rustling in the bushes, and then a whimper.

“Did you hear that?” Jon asked, the other three.

“What?” Theon asked. Jon took a few paces toward the sound and stumbled upon the carcass of a dead wolf and a dead buck… the wolf was female, with swollen teats indicating that she had likely just whelped pups and she had antlers through her neck. Jon head the little whimper again.

“Ned, it’s a wolf,” Jon exclaimed.

“A wolf?” responded Ned.

“There haven’t been any wolves here in over a hundred years,” said Theon.

“I read that the last wolf in Scotland was killed in the 1600s,” added Rickon. Jon knelt on the ground beside her.

“She is certainly a wolf,” Jon said.

“Do you think she could have belonged to someone?” Theon asked Ned.

“Maybe, but surely no one nearby would keep a wolf for a pet, with so many sheep farms around,” Ned said. Jon heard the little whimper again and looked around the tree and curled up alone beside the trunk was a wolf pup, white as snow.

“Come here, little fella,” Jon reached over and picked up the pup by the scruff of the neck.

“It’s a wolf pup!” Rickon exclaimed, “Can we keep him, Papa?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Rick, wolves hunt sheep, and we’re sheep farmers,” Ned put his hand on Rickon’s shoulder, “Besides a pup so small is not like to survive without it’s mother.”

“Was it the only one in the litter?” Theon asked. There appeared to be no evidence of other pups.

“If there were others it seems they either died before they were born, or somehow managed to wander off,” Ned said.

Jon studied the pup’s face.

“The kindest thing to do is put it down so it won’t starve to death,” Ned said, and Theon reached for the pup. Jon pulled him away, everything inside him bulked at the idea of letting Theon killed the little animal now nestled in his arms.

Not sure what had come over him, Jon said, "Ned, I’ll keep the pup.”

“Suit yourself,” Ned said, “But I fear you will have to put him down when he gets older and starts to kill off your sheep.”

“I’ll train him,” Jon said, half to Ned, half to himself.

“_If_ wolves can be trained,” Theon said, “Wolves are killers.”

Jon studied the little bundle of fur that looked up at him, trustingly. _Could wolves be trained?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Dany spends the day in Wintertown, meets a few new faces, and learns things about the Starks
> 
> This week is a little bit crazy busy, so the next update may be slow in coming, but I will get it out as quick as I can.


	6. Robb (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and for reading it! I appreciate you all!

Dany walked down the lane they had traversed yesterday back toward Wintertown. She knew it would be quite a walk, but she needed to fill her day somehow, especially since she and Jon had not yet discussed what type of gardens and crops, they wanted to cultivate, and she had no idea what to do with her time as a farmer’s wife. They had not yet truly discussed anything, if she were honest with herself.

“Hello,” A soft voice greeted, and Dany looked up from the road, to see a young woman walking out of a gated pasture and onto the road.

“Hello,” Dany said. The young woman was heavily pregnant, and Dany felt a keen ache in her heart.

“As I don’t know you, and you are coming down from the Stark’s land, I imagine you are Jon’s wife?” She asked with a pleasant smile.

“Yes, I’m Daenerys, but most everyone calls me Dany.”

“I’m Roslin Tully,” Except for her pregnant belly, the young woman was slight, and pale with bright blue eyes and flaxen hair. The two women began to walk side by side toward town.

“Jon tells me the Tully’s are kin to his Aunt Cat,” Dany said, trying to remember the family ties Jon had mentioned the previous day, and in the past.

“Yes,” Roslin smiled, “Catelyn is my sister-in-law.”

“I have not had a chance yet to spend time with Catelyn, but she seems quite lovely,” Dany said.

“She is, she is a great help to me,” Roslin said, her voice sad, “I suppose though we all have had to be of help to each other since the war started.”

Dany did not know what it was like to have family that helped each other and took care of each other. When she had declared her love for Jon to her own family, her father and brother had flung her out of the house.

“Is your husband a sheep farmer, then? Like the Starks?” Dany asked.

“He was… yes,” Roslin said softly.

Dany swallowed, “Was?”

“He died…in…in the war,” Roslin placed a loving hand on her belly, as tears filled her eyes, “He was on leave, and then not long after… after…”

“I’m sorry,” Dany could not look the woman in the eye.

Roslin shook her head, and smiled at Dany, “I just wish my babe would have had the chance to know his father.”

“When are you due?” Dany asked, hoping Roslin would not think her impertinent.

“About a month or so,” Roslin responded. Dany did not know how she herself would manage being pregnant and alone up here if she did not have Jon. The quite passionate kiss they had shared in bed this morning briefly flashed through Dany’s mind. A darker corner of her mind questioned what she knew about bringing new life into the world, when all she had known for the past five years was death. She and Jon had both wanted children at one time, and she wandered if he still thought about babies. Not for the first time today, she was struck with how much they still needed to say to each other.

Roslin walked her to Lannister’s store and the rest of their talk was menial, about weather and crops, and life in Wintertown. Dany was glad of her company, and thankful they had walked together as she would have taken an altogether different turn at the foot bridge and gotten lost. Had she gotten lost and not been able to find her way back, she knew Jon would have been beside himself.

“There is a book at the library on planting and caring for crops that are planted in the autumn,” Roslin said kindly, “I know it seems silly to learn how to farm professionally from a library book, but I find it very helpful when I have questions, Edmure used to tease me about it…”

Dany offered Roslin a smile and was reminded of some of the nurses she had spent the duration of the war with and felt a keen sense of loss. Dany hoped that perhaps she might find friends here and thought perhaps she had made one today in Roslin. Together they walked into Lannister’s and Dany was pleased to see a few products on the shelves that she recognized, proving that she was not in an altogether foreign country.

“Mrs. Tully,” came a clipped voice from where Dany could not see, “I thought I told you that until that baby comes you are to telephone your grocery orders down here to me!”

Roslin chuckled, and out from behind the counter came a small man, a dwarf, with curly blonde hair and shaggy beard, with a pair of wireframed spectacles sitting upon his nose.

He noticed Dany’s scrutiny and huffed, “Never seen a dwarf before?”

“No… I mean yes…” Dany stumbled over her words, his directness taking her off guard. He chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’m not half so fierce-some as I look.”

“Dany, this is Tyrion Lannister,” Roslin introduced them, “He owns the store.”

“Dany is it?” Tyrion shook Dany’s hand.

“She’s Jon Snow’s wife.”

“Ah, so the prodigal, Jon Snow, has returned at last to Winterfell,” Tyrion said.

“Um, yes, I suppose so,” Dany did not know what to say.

“You suppose?” Tyrion chuckled, “Did he not come with you?”

“No, I mean yes he did come with me,” Dany explained, “As for him being a prodigal, I wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled as if he knew a secret that she did not, and Dany was not sure if she liked this impertinent dwarf.

“Well, I’m sure the Starks are glad to have him back,” Tyrion said, his voice kind once again, “After losing Robb the big house could use some happiness again.”

_Losing Robb? _Dany suddenly felt sick to her stomach. _Losing Robb? What did he mean losing Robb? _Jon had not told her anything about Robb. _How could Jon not tell her?_ Dany's mind was reeling. Robb had been the best man at her and Jon’s wedding, he had been the first of Jon’s family she had met, and he accepted her so easily, and so readily that Dany had always hoped that the she might find a place of belonging with Jon’s family. _Losing Robb? How could Jon keep this from her?_ Dany tried to maintain her composure, as she handed Tyrion her list, and he helped her locate the items.

“Still getting electricity up at the cottage?” Tyrion asked as he walked along the aisle with her.

“Yes,” Dany said, “I’m not sure how to keep our food cold until then… in… in London we had one of those small electric iceboxes.”

Tyrion smiled, “Technology is a wonder, but those who came before us had their own useful ways of surviving without it.”

“Do you have any suggestions?” Dany asked. Right now, she did not care about ice boxes, and keeping her food cold. They had lost Robb, and Jon had not told her.

“Have you never seen a non-electric icebox?” Tyrion asked. Dany did not want to admit that she had not, which would only confirm in the dwarf’s eyes that she was both young and grew up in privilege. Her family, the Targaryens, had always had electricity… as far back as she could remember anyway.

“Check with Ned Stark and see if he has a spare one, and that should do to hold your cold food until they get the electricity run to your place,” Tyrion said, after explaining how to use it.

Dany nodded, “Thank you.”

Dany finished her shopping long after Roslin had already departed the store and brought her items up to the counter where Tyrion was waiting for her to check out.

“Tyrion?” Another man’s voice sounded and appearing from the door behind the counter came another blonde-haired man, with flecks of grey. He was straight backed and handsome, but Dany noticed none of that, as her eyes zeroed on his missing hand.

“This is my one-handed brother Jaime,” Tyrion introduced them, with a chuckle, and Jaime rolled his eyes.

“I’m Daenerys,” Dany said quietly, as she tried to banish other images from her mind of missing limbs and blood on her hands that never seemed to wash off.

“She is Jon Snow’s wife,” Tyrion informed Jaime.

“Ah, yes, I had heard Snow was back in town, good man, your husband,” Jaime said.

“He is,” Dany agreed, and suddenly felt an overwhelming need to be out of the store.

When she had gathered her parcels, and stepped out of the store, Jon and Davos were already waiting for her. They were early, but Dany was thankful that she would not have to sit on the steps of the store with all of her purchases waiting for them. Jon leapt out of the car to help her. _Losing Robb_… she heard Tyrion’s voice in her mind. Silently, she handed Jon her bags, and he gave her a concerned look, his hand coming to touch her elbow.

“You alright, love?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” She said coldly. He looked skeptical but did not argue as they finished putting the bags in the car. When Dany got inside, she saw Jon lift a little bundle of white fur into his arms as he got into the car himself. It was a puppy.

“Where did you get a puppy?” She asked, hesitantly reaching up to pet the little animal.

“We found him in the woods, his mother was dead,” Jon explained, with an almost boyish smile as he looked at the puppy in his arms, “He’s a wolf, or at least part wolf.”

Davos chuckled, “Apparently, your husband believes he can train that little wolf pup.”

“Aren’t wolves’ killers by nature?” Dany asked, thinking of the sheep he had gone with Davos to purchase that morning.

“Aren’t human beings?” Jon said softly. The car fell quiet for a moment, as Dany and Jon’s eyes met.

Wrenching her gaze away from his piercing eyes, she asked, “What about our sheep?”

“What would you have me do? Put the poor pup down, simply because he lost his mother?” Jon asked, softly. Dany looked down at the little bundle of fur in Jon’s arms.

“No,” Dany said quietly. _Who could do such a thing?_ She wanted to snap back but was once again assaulted with images of missing limbs and blood… so much blood.

“No?”

Not forgetting her earlier anger, she offered him a kind smile, “Bring him home with us.”

Dany’s anger simmered along with the potato and leek soup she was cooking for their supper. She had had some struggle with the iron stove but once she got it lit, she felt like she was managing just fine. After they had put away their groceries, Jon had fixed up a little pallet for the pup in front of the fireplace. Jon had named him Ghost and Dany was not sure if that name was fitting or sad. Once Ghost’s bed was made, Jon had kissed her cheek and told her he would be back shortly, as he was going to mend the last of the fences so that they would be ready for the sheep. That was several hours ago, and she knew he would be walking through the door at any moment, and she was not disappointed. He strode threw the door, sweaty and hair askew. He came up beside her, placing his hand on the small of her back. Dany felt her cheeks heat.

“Food smells good,” he said.

“Thank you,” Dany replied curtly, trying to hide how his nearness caused her cheeks to flush, “It is almost ready, go wash up.”

Jon nodded, and obeyed, stopping only for a moment to pet Ghost.

Sitting down to dinner they were relatively quiet, Dany did not know what he was thinking about, but she had only one thing on her mind. She watched him eat, it was not very good, but he did not complain, though she knew he would not. Jon had never been one to complain.

“You’re quiet,” Jon suddenly said. _Who was he to be accusing someone of being quiet? _

“I’m quiet?” Dany gave a rueful chuckle.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, offering her a kind smile, that would have melted her under normal circumstances.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dany tried to keep the bite out of her tone but failed.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Dany said, “How did you find the sheep?”

“Fine, bought fifteen of them,” Jon took another bite, “Its not very many, but I think it’s enough to get our herd going, and hold us through the winter, we can breed a few of these and then in the spring, we can look into expanding.”

Dany nodded. Jon cleared his throat.

“One of the ewes is actually already pregnant, so we will have at least one lamb by winter,” Jon explained. Dany nodded again. They were quiet again and finished eating. Afterward Jon cleared away the dishes, and then to her surprise came and crouched in front of her where she was sitting at the kitchen table.

“Thank you for dinner,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“You’re welcome.”

Jon tucked some of her stray hair behind her ear, “I cannot read your mind, love, if something is wrong, would you tell me?”

Dany looked down into his eyes… kind eyes. He had always had such kind eyes.

“Jon…” She started, “When were you going to tell me that Robb was dead?”

Jon pulled away from her as if she had slapped him. He sighed deeply, his sweet grey eyes, growing dark and sad.

“It happened in the last few months of the war,” Jon said, standing up and raking a hand through his hair, “I could never bring myself to write it in a letter.”

Dany stood up as well, “You’ve had three, nearly four days now.”

“Aye, four days,” Jon snapped, his harshness taking her by surprise, “And when would you have liked me to say it? When you stepped off the train? Hello, love, I know it’s been three and a half years since last we saw each other, and by the way my cousin is dead?”

“I found out from Tyrion Lannister, at the grocer’s Jon!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you think your family does not matter to me?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated.

“Stop!” Dany shouted, “Stop apologizing!”

“Then I don’t know what you expect me to say!” Jon shouted back.

Dany whirled on her heels and stormed out of the house. She heard him call her name just before she slammed the door.

Dany walked out into one of their pastures and sank down into the tall grass. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The sun was setting, and the sky was afire, it had been years since she had seen anything so lovely. She wanted to cry but no tears would come. She could not remember the last time she had cried. Hearing footsteps approach her, she turned her face away, not wanting him to discern how hurt she was, rather than just angry. Sighing deeply, he sat down beside her.

“I should have told you about Robb, should have told you in a letter,” Jon said, “But it is what it is now, and I was wrong, and I am sorry, will you forgive me?”

Dany turned her face back to him, still trying to school her features and not sure if she was succeeding, “I forgive you,” she said softly. He gave her a half smile, his hand coming to rest on her back, “I’m sorry for shouting at you,” she added.

“And I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

Hesitantly, Dany leaned back again his arm, and he encircled her in his embrace. Her back resting against his side.

“Uncle Ned told me today that Arya is missing.”

“Robb’s sister?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Dany whispered, and he tightened his arms around her, and placed a kiss atop her head.

“It seems like even with this war over, it just keeps taking and taking,” Jon said softly.

“I met Roslin Tully today, she said her husband died,” Dany said, then quietly added, “She’s all alone and pregnant.”

“Yes, Davos told me when we were on our way to pick you up today.”

“What do people do up here when it comes time to birth a baby?” Dany asked. Jon held her close.

“There is a midwife who lives close to Loch Ness who can attend a birth,” Jon started, “We also have a doctor who lives here in town, he’s quite old though, I’m not even sure if he’s still alive.”

Dany nodded. Jon looked as if he was about to say something else but refrained. Dany wanted to ask him if he still thought about babies, but she could not bring the words to her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Jon and Dany bring their sheep home. Dany and Sansa spend some time together.


	7. Tea and Storm Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very confident with how this chapter turned out, but I hope it conveyed the emotions I was trying to convey. I hope you enjoy, and that it is not boring. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for commenting!

A wet tongue licked Dany’s cheek and she was about to reach out and smack Jon for waking her in such a way, when her eyes fluttered open and found it to be Ghost staring down at her. He licked her nose and she could not help but smile and scratch the little pup behind the ears. Dany heard a chuckle and looked over to see Jon leaning against the doorframe watching them. Dany blushed, realizing all at once that he must have carried her to bed last night. After their fight they had sat in front of the fire and talked about their plans for the farm, and though Dany still felt completely out of her depth, making plans helped her feel more confident. She must have fallen asleep in her chair because she did not remember coming to bed.

“I think Ghost is quite taken with you,” Jon came closer and sat down beside her on the bed. Dany petted Ghost’s head, and silently concurred that he was a sweet a little thing. Jon smiled down at her.

“I love waking up with you beside me,” Jon said tenderly, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Dany blushed in spite of herself, and felt her stomach do a little flip. She took his hand and laced their fingers together.

“Me too.”

He leaned down and kissed her, only to be interrupted by Ghost who started to lick Jon’s face, obviously wanting kisses as well. Dany giggled.

“I think Ghost has decided it is time to get up,” Dany said, and started to rise from bed. She stretched.

“I’ve made some eggs for breakfast,” Jon said.

“Thank you,” She leaned over and gave him a kiss, and he snaked his arms around her, and kissed her deeper, stealing the breath from her.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers, “I have to go up to Ned’s and herd our sheep down here to our pastures before the rain starts, I can already see the clouds threatening.”

Dany stroked his bearded cheek, and nodded, before placing another kiss upon his mouth. As she started to get dressed for the day, she could feel Jon’s eyes on her, watching her.

“Thought you had to go up to the big house and get the sheep?” She teased, tossing him a saucy smile over her shoulder, as she turned her back to him, took off her nightgown and fastened her bra around her.

“Aye,” He said, in his deep Scottish brogue, but he did not move from where he was sitting on the bed continuing to watch her. Dany only chuckled as she continued to get ready for the day.

When she was finished dressing, they broke their fast together, and then Jon pulled on a hat and boots. Wishing that he did not have to go, Dany cleaned up their breakfast dishes. She felt like they had been constantly on the move since she returned from France and they had yet to have a moment to just sit without their new responsibilities and the experiences of their past weighing down upon them. Jon came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. Smiling, she leaned back against him, and he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I’ll be back by midday,” He said. She felt him flatten his palm against her stomach and pull her closer to him.

“Can I…” She started, but hesitated. She wanted to come with him, but she did not want to be in his way.

“What?” He urged.

“Can I come with you?” She turned around to face him, “I don’t want to get in your way… I just…”

His face broke into a breathtaking smile as he took her hand, “Come on then.”

* * *

Once, during the war, Dany had dreamed that she and Jon ran away to Scotland and lived off of river trout and made love under the stars. In the dream, they had also had five children and raised dragons for pets, but she had held onto the simple dream of Scotland and Jon during long days in both Italy and France when she thought she would not make it through another. Glancing down at where their hands were entwined as they walked through pastures up toward the big house, Dany had never imagined that they would one day actually live in Scotland, and as foreign as both Scotland and Jon felt right now, she imagined she could be happy here.

“I had a dream once…during the war…” Dany started, wanting to once again offer him the contents of her heart, but sharing about the war still felt so raw, “I dreamt that we ran away to Scotland together.”

Jon chuckled, and flashed her that endearing half smile of his, but his eyes were nervous, “A good dream I hope?”

“Yes,” Dany said softly, “It was a lovely dream.”

He squeezed her hand.

The moment was broken by the sound of a boy’s voice calling Jon’s name, and Rickon came striding toward them.

“Mother said you and Dany were to come take tea at the house before collecting your sheep.”

“Did she now?” Jon chuckled.

“Aye, come on now,” Rickon said, and led the way back down to the big house.

Dany had grown up in wealth. When her mother had died, Dany, her father, and her second brother, moved into a town house in London, and occasionally took their summers on their estate in the countryside, their homes were always lavish. Winterfell Castle was different from the elegant homes of her youth, the Starks wealth was apparent but not ostentatious, and the walls of Winterfell spoke more of strength and honor, than of shallow wealth and prestige. The sound of a child’s laughter echoing down the cold grey halls as soon as they walked through the doors, was evidence enough that this home was far different from any Dany had known growing up. The Targaryen home did not know much laughter, after the passing of both a mother and a son.

“Jon, Dany come and join us,” Aunt Catelyn’s voice called to them from a room off the main corridor. The family was mostly gathered, save Ned, in the parlor around tea and cake. Dany, Jon and Rickon joined them.

“Once you’ve had a few days to settle, you must come up to the big house often, Dany,” said Jeyne, Robb’s wife, “Sansa and I could use the company.”

Sansa gave Jeyne an icy glare, “You make it sound like we’re suffering for company, Jeyne, but of course Dany is welcome to come whenever she has the time,” Sansa took a sip of her tea, and smiled at Dany, “Though I’m sure starting a new farm will be quite consuming.”

Dany smiled back, and took a sip of her own tea, unsure of what to make of Sansa’s coolness, especially after knowing how much Sansa had done to prepare their cabin for their arrival.

“If you need anything, Dany, please be sure to let me know, I’m happy to help you both in any way I can,” Aunt Cat said with a kind smile.

“Thank you.”

“I want to hear war stories!” Rickon said, excitedly. Dany felt her heart hammer in her chest, she heard Jon take a deep breath. She saw Jeyne’s face go white, and Sansa glance out the window.

“There’s no stories to tell,” Jon said, with a laugh, trying to brush off the question, without wounding Rickon.

“But…” Rickon was about to continue but was interrupted by a toddler scurrying into the parlor and running shyly to Jeyne.

“He looks like Robb,” Jon said softly. Jeyne smiled, and smoothed back some of Neddy’s auburn curls.

“Yes, he does,” Jeyne agreed, “Can you say hello to your cousin Jon?” Jeyne asked the little boy, who nodded, and toddled over to Jon. When Jon lifted him into his arms, with a smile on his face, Dany felt a renewed ache in her heart.

“Hello Cousin Jon,” Neddy said with a bashful smile.

“Hello,” Jon grinned, “I’m happy to finally get to know you, your Papa was my very best friend.”

“Mama said you are Papa’s cousin,” Neddy gave him a puzzled look.

“Cousins can be friends,” Jon chuckled, “Can we be friends?”

Neddy nodded and laughed as Jon tickled his sides and put him back down.

“Everyone has been taking tea, I see,” Uncle Ned strode into the room a grin on his face, and Aunt Cat handed him a cup, “Thank you, my love.”

“Indeed, and you are quite late,” Cat chuckled, as Ned caught her about the waist and planted a kiss upon her mouth. Dany smiled, as the older couple looked adoringly into each other’s eyes. Dany glanced over at Jon and found him looking at her with a fond grin upon his face.

“After tea, we should see to your sheep, Jon, before the rain starts,” Ned said as he sat down and took Neddy into his lap, making the toddler laugh, “I’m surprised it hasn’t started already.”

“Dany, would you like to stay up here with us while Jon gets the sheep taken care of?” Cat invited.

“Thank you, but perhaps another time,” Dany offered sweet Aunt Cat a smile, “I’m going to help Jon get the sheep down into our pasture.” Dany was not sure she was quite ready to be left alone with Jon’s family just yet.

When tea was over, and the family dispersed, Dany followed Jon and Ned toward the barns, the sky had gotten darker in just the little time they had spent inside the castle. Jon and Ned talked about sheep, and Dany studied the old buildings, fascinated that it seemed that this castle came straight from a medieval fairytale. Between the barn and the big house, Dany caught sight of Sansa talking quite intimately with someone who appeared to be one of the Stark’s field hands. When Dany, Jon and Ned got a little closer, both seemed to disappear, and Dany almost thought she may have imagined them. Her and Jon’s herd were already separated from Ned’s sheep, and Ned proceeded to tell her about the type of sheep they were raising. She tried to absorb as much as she could but feared she could never remember everything that she needed to know.

“This ewe is expected to lamb in the next week or two,” Ned patted the sheep’s side. Smiling, Dany scratched the sheep’s ear, then wondered if sheep even liked to be touched. They were not dogs after all.

“Will we use them only for wool? Or for meat as well?” Dany asked.

“Until we grow our herd a bit, we’ll use them mostly for wool, unless we need meat,” Jon explained, “But I’d like to eventually grow the herd and split them into two, one herd for wool production and one for meat.”

Dany nodded, and listened to instructions as Jon explained how they were going to get the sheep down to their pastures, and then they were trudging off sheep in tow.

* * *

By the time they managed to herd their sheep down to their pastures the rain had begun to come down in sheets. They managed to corral their sheep into their barn, both laughing as Jon had to scramble back out into the rain as one sheep took off toward the fence line. He was laughing as he returned to the barn. She looked at her husband, they were both soaked through, and her teeth were chattering.

“We’re officially sheep farmers,” Jon chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking at the herd.

“Aye,” Dany said, teasingly imitating his accent. Jon laughed, his eyes softening.

“Your father warned you that one day, I would carry you off to be a Scottish sheep farmer,” The words were said in jest, but Dany could hear a note of insecurity in his voice. He turned to her, “After everything we struggled through that first year together, and then with the war…” Jon looked at his feet, “…I wanted more for you.”

Dany took his hand, her heart hammering in her chest, “And all I wanted… was you.” Dany had had what she called _big dreams_ before the war, but now none of that seemed to matter.

Jon squeezed her hand and smiled before pulling her toward the barn door. Together they made a mad dash for the house, where Dany did not imagine it would be any warmer and hoped they did not catch cold from being out in this weather. Jon threw open the door, and Dany was correct in assuming that their house was freezing. Her teeth began to chatter.

“Let me get a fire going,” He said, as she began to ring her hair out over the copper tub still sitting in their main room. Ghost, who had been bundled under blankets, in his little bed scampered up to Jon.

“Hello, boy, have you stayed nice and cozy in here?” Jon laughed and scratched Ghost behind the ears. Jon got the fire going while Dany watched him.

“Tomorrow, if it is not raining, we will see about getting the garden going,” Jon said, “Sansa is quite good with plants, and gardens, I’m sure she’d be happy to come down and spend the day with us and help us.”

Dany chuckled, “I don’t think Sansa likes me very much.”

Jon stood and came over to her and began to rub her arms, trying to help her get warm, “She doesn’t know you, and in all fairness I’m not sure Sansa likes anyone right now,” Jon explained, “She is also a bit wary of outsiders, and she has her reasons, some justified, some not.”

As he talked Jon took off his wet shirt and hug it over a chair in front of the fire. Dany nodded, as she studied his chest, he was a little thinner than she remembered him being, but still solid and well formed. He had a large crescent shape scar not far above his heart. Jon noticed what she was staring at.

“I guess we each have our own scars, don’t we?” He said, his voice deep and low. Dany reached out and touched the scar. In a letter, he had mentioned getting wounded, but had not said how badly. After that letter, she had had nightmares of finding him on some gurney in a muddy field hospital full of bullet holes. She shuddered as real images of other soldiers in similar positions assaulted her mind. Jon let her look and did not flinch under her scrutiny.

“You did not tell me how close it was to your heart,” Dany whispered, flattening her palm against his heart, feeling it pounding.

“As we learned yesterday, I’m not the best of communicators,” Jon said with a shy grin. Dany thought of her own scars, and suddenly felt ashamed that she had not told him anything of her own. She knew that fact was not lost to him, as he looked down into her eyes.

“You’re freezing, Dany, we need to get out of these wet clothes,” Jon said. Before second guessing herself, Dany wrapped her arms around his waist, the revelation of how easily she could have lost him washing over her. She thought of Jeyne’s face today when the war and Robb had been mentioned. Jeyne, though, had the Starks. If Dany had lost Jon, she would have been all alone in the world. She wanted to cry, but no tears would come.

“I’m here, love,” He smoothed some of her wet hair out of her face, “We’re both here, and we’re safe.” They were quiet with Dany’s face pressed against his chest before Jon, suddenly, leaned down and kissed her. Taken off guard for a moment, Dany did not immediately respond, but when he tangled his hand into her wet hair and coaxed her mouth open, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

“Jon…” Dany started, clinging to him.

“Dany…” he moaned, and began to back her toward their bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. Dany felt heat bloom in her cheeks as his hands slipped underneath her shirt, and she gasped as he gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Carefully, with a tender smile, Jon rid her of her blouse, his hands slow and deliberate, allowing her time to stop him if she wished. He leaned in and kissed her again, deeply, his hands going to her waist to hold her to him.

Their desperate kisses did not halt until Dany felt the bed at the back of their legs, and not wishing to leave a watermark, her hands went to pull her skirt from her body and suddenly she stood before her husband in nothing but her undergarments. He pulled back for a moment to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat under his gaze. Reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, then slowly removed his pants. With her heart thundering in her chest, Dany sat down on the bed and looked up at him before scooting backward meaning to rest against the headboard. His hand caught behind her knee, halting her retreat, and so Dany lay down. Dany felt warm, and her heart was pounding faster than she imagined it ever had as she looked up at the ceiling while feeling him part her legs and draw her knees back. Jon pressed a kiss to her knee, then slid up her body, settling his weight atop her. Dany tried to breathe, she had been less nervous on her wedding night, and felt foolish. This was her husband, sweet and gentle Jon, who had always handled her with the utmost care. Jon shifted his weight slightly, and suddenly she felt a sharp jolt of pleasure as he rolled his hips forward and pressed down against her. Their undergarments the only flimsy barrier preventing him from entering her. Dany felt like a self-conscious virgin, unsure of where to place her hands, or how to kiss him like she used too, and whimpered loudly when he pushed against her again.

Jon, breathless, pulled back, “Are you alright, love?”

“Yes,” She whispered, one of her wayward hands coming up to stroke his cheek.

“You are shaking,” He nuzzled his nose against her, “Are you cold?” He started to reach for their quilt.

Dany stopped him and brought his eyes back to hers, “No, I’m not cold.”

“Is this… is this alright?” He asked, and he looked so hesitant her heart nearly broke.

“Yes…yes,” she murmured, stroking his shoulders, “I know it’s silly… but I’m… I’m nervous.”

He kissed her forehead, “It’s not silly.”

“It’s been so long…” Dany was not really sure what to say. Jon slipped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, as he nuzzled sweet, slow kisses against her neck and cheek.

“I know,” He whispered, and pressed a kiss against the large scar near her collarbone, making her shudder.

“Do you remember Italy?” Dany whispered hoping to redirect his attention from the scar.

“Aye, I remember,” His voice was gruff, and his eyes wide and dark. Three and a half years ago, they had managed to take leave at the same time, Dany had been stationed in Italy, and Jon briefly in Africa. It had been the last time they seen each other, and the last time they had been together as husband and wife. It had been precious but harried, the impending return to duty looming over their whole time together, turning something that should have been sweet into something bitter.

“I missed you,” Dany whispered, feeling her throat constrict with emotion, but still no tears would come.

Jon captured her mouth again, and she gasped loudly as he rocked his hips against her once more.

“I missed you too,” He said with a gentle smile, “So much.”

Just as Jon’s hands started to explore further, and Dany began to lose herself in his kisses, a loud clap of thunder, the first of the day, crashed outside, so loud it nearly shook the walls of their cottage. Dany heard a scream and realized that it came from her as she nearly pushed Jon off of her. Her heart pounding in fear, instead of passion, as images of collapsing buildings, smoke, and bombs exploding flashed into her consciousness. They were both sitting straight up and stock still in bed now, and when she looked over at Jon, she could tell he too was reliving moments to terrible for words. Their prior passion banked for now, Jon opened his arms to her, and she grateful snuggled closer to him, and while the storm raged outside, they held each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for leaving off like this, but I promise this story will not be quite as slow a burn as my other stories.


	8. Things Past (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a little update, I've been pretty busy in real life, and so haven't been able to do much writing, but I wanted to get this one posted. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for commenting!

Jon did not remember loving to be so complicated. Before the war, they had hardly been able to keep their hands off each other, of course they had been younger then and besotted fools in love. Smiling to himself at the thought, Jon looked over at Dany from where he stood in the pasture. She was pulling weeds in the garden and had an adorable smudge of dirt across her nose. After they had been so rudely interrupted by the storm yesterday, they had not made another attempt to make love. Dany had seemed to turn shy on him, a new characteristic for her, and he too had been unsure how to proceed, and so they had simply gone on with their day once the storm had passed.

“You had better quit your staring before someone guesses exactly what it is you’re thinking,” Sansa’s teasing voice coming up behind him, startled him from his thoughts. Sansa wore an ankle length skirt in the tartan colors of the clan Stark, and her bright red hair was completely loose and hanging down her back. She was the picture of northern beauty and Jon wished that he could return to her the sweetness and innocence that had once made her eyes sparkle. In childhood, they had not been particularly close, but they had grown into a mutual love and respect for each other that Jon valued. Aside from Dany, Sansa had been his most faithful correspondent during the war, and for that alone he would have treasured her, for her letters had given him back his home.

“I thought you might be too busy sneaking around the barns to come down,” Jon teased her, and she rolled her eyes, making no comment. She put the basket she was carrying on the ground. Hearing a little yelp come from the garden, they both turned in time to see Dany fall on her rear after pulling loose a particularly stubborn weed. She, thankfully, did not notice them watching. Jon smiled, but Sansa did not.

“I’m worried for you, Jon,” Sansa said simply.

Jon felt himself bristle at her words, “Worried?”

Sansa looked back at Dany, “Not everyone is cut out for life in these mountains.”

“I think that is quite unfair of you to assume.”

“How long do you think a woman born and bred in high society London will be able to tolerate life here?”

“Dany survived in both Italy and France on her own, she’s stronger than you give her credit for,” Jon said firmly, trying not to lose his temper. But had he not feared the same thing? Would Dany come to hate him for bringing her here?

“Neither Italy nor France were a life sentence.”

“These are interesting words coming from someone who did so much to prepare for our arrival,” Jon retorted.

“I didn’t do it for her, Jon,” Sansa snapped, “You are my cousin, you may as well be my brother, you are as dear to me as…as….”

Her voice trailed off and their eyes met… _as_ _Robb_. She did not have to say it, he knew. The fact that a shared grief over someone they both loved so much could bring them closer was bittersweet.

“She’s my wife, Sans, we love each other, and we are learning together how to go on with our lives now,” Jon said resolutely, intending to end the conversation there.

“I hate to cast shadows on your sunny optimism, but sometimes love isn’t enough.”

They stared at each other, Jon once again recalling the little girl Sansa had been, head full of songs and stories, desperately wanting to be loved. _How cruel the world was_, Jon thought bitterly, as her clear blue eyes dared him to challenge her.

“She deserves a chance,” Jon said sharply. Everyone else in the family had seemed to accept Dany readily enough, why couldn’t Sansa? Had her past truly turned her so cold?

Sansa did not respond, but merely picked up her basket and walked toward Dany in the garden. When Ghost came bounding up to Sansa, she bent down and scratched the pup behind the ears. When Ghost rolled over, wanting his belly rubbed, Sansa only laughed and obliged, and for a moment Jon saw the little girl she had been, and it broke his heart for her once more. He would have protected her from the world if he could have, protected her and Arya both, but alas, no one could protect anyone from everything.

* * *

Late that night, Jon was tending to the sheep and heard the door to the barn open and Dany stepped inside carrying an extra lantern. She was in that nightgown again with a shawl wrapped around her slight shoulders. Her silvery golden hair was loose, cascading down her back. She looked like some kind of angel, or something out of his dreams.

“Ghost and I were beginning to worry where you were,” She grinned at him, “Though Ghost did not let his worries keep him awake.”

Jon smiled and held his hand out to her. She took it.

“I was just finishing up, and checking on the pregnant ewe,” Jon explained, leading her over to the sheep. Dany study the creature.

“Will we call a vet when its time?”

“No,” Jon explained, “We will let nature take its course, but if there are problems, we will call Davos, he has done this for so long he will know what to do.”

They sat down in the hay, and Jon pulled Dany against him, her back to his chest, as they watched their animals.

“It’s strange to think that after five years of nursing, I still know so little about bringing life into the world,” Dany said with a furrowed brow. Strange, Jon thought to himself, he and Dany had seemingly played converse roles in the war, and yet they both came away with at least one similar insecurity. What did they know about life after seeing so much death? Dany sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.

“You saved lives, Dany,” Jon said, trying to be reassuring, his hand going to stroke her back as she hugged her knees.

“Most of the time I felt like I was just patching them up to send them back to die in a more creative way,” Her voice sounded broken.

“You did what you could.”

Dany looked away from him.

“I can hardly look at myself in the mirror sometimes…” Jon said wishing to offer her the same trust they had once had in one another, “I don’t know how I can forgive myself for…”

“You did what you had too,” she interrupted him.

Perhaps she was right, Jon thought saying nothing in response, but that did not alleviate the weight of so much death pressing against his shoulders.

“One day… in France…” Dany began, “A local woman found her way into our hospital…”

Jon could barely make out Dany’s face in the dim light, but she kept her eyes averted from him, and he desperately wished she would look at him.

“She was pregnant, and in labor…” Her voice was soft, and Jon felt his stomach turn dreading the outcome of this story.

“Did she survive?” He asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know.

“The older more experienced nurses sent all of us younger women away, said it wasn’t proper for us to be hanging around,” Dany smiled, “My friend…M-Missandei… and I were on duty tending our male patients throughout the birth, and we could hear the woman’s cries and the bustle of activity in the makeshift delivery room, though the matron would not let us attend the birth…”

Jon continued to stroke her back, wanting to feel close to her.

“The men on their cots in the hospital were all so worried and agitated,” Dany grinned, which puzzled Jon, “But when they heard the baby cry, they all cheered, even some of the weakest of them.”

Dany looked at him then, “I got to hold him the next day… I had never held a newborn baby before that day, he was so tiny, and so… so alive,” She smiled, “And both the mother and baby survived, and gave that grim hospital a tiny glimmer of hope, that there could be life after so much death… that life could go on.”

Jon wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, but she was not finished.

“I’ve been thinking of Roslin Tully, up here all alone, and pregnant,” Dany said softly, studying their animals again.

“She has quite a large family here,” Jon offered lamely. He did not know what to say. The fact that Roslin Tully had lost her husband, so late in her pregnancy and so close to the end of the war, was heartbreaking. His thoughts drifted to Jeyne caring for Neddy alone, without Robb. They would never have Robb again. Roslin would never have Edmure again. They may never have Arya again, though Jon could not bring himself to think such a thing. So many children would never know their fathers due to the damnable war. Jon studied Dany; they could have so easily lost each other.

“Do you…” She started suddenly, her hand beginning to play with his own.

“Do I what?” Jon urged, grasping her fidgeting hands and kissing them.

“Do you still…um…” She could not seem to meet his eye, “Do you still want… a-a baby?”

Very gently, Jon brought his fingers to her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes vulnerable.

“Aye,” He said softly and honestly, “Do you?”

Dany smiled, “Y-yes… yes, I do.”

Jon tipped her chin up, and kissed her, “Well, then…” They shared soft, shy smiles, “We will have to do something about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Thoughts in the hay (Dany POV)


	9. Wife (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up immediately where the last chapter left off. I do not ever feel very confident when I write scenes like this, so I am sorry if its not any good. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for commenting! I appreciate you all.

Before the war, it had been an unspoken, but shared, wound between them, they never spoke about it for fear that it would fester. Dany looked at Jon, who was studying her with those intense grey eyes, as they broke their kiss. They did not say it now but they both knew. Before the war, they had been married for a full year, and had made love most nights of that year, without precautions… and without consequence. Never once in that year had Dany conceived. They never spoke of it, but they had been so much younger then, barely adults, who would have never believed that their love could not, in fact, conquer all. Dany looked away from Jon, her eyes glancing around the barn, studying their animals, not able to maintain the intensity of his gaze.

“I think we need chickens, Jon,” Dany said, evasively. Jon laughed so loudly, that she had to smile. Dany liked it when he laughed.

“You want to talk about chickens…right now?”

“I think chickens would be very practical,” Dany defended with a smirk, as she scooted slightly away from him, “We’d just need a few for eggs and meat if need be.”

Still chuckling, Jon ran his hand through his hair before scooting closer to her, “Then chickens we shall get when we go to Inverness.”

“Good,” Dany bit her lip, and felt an involuntary shudder go through her as he brushed his finger down her arm. Jon moved closer. Grinning, but feeling a deep blush cross her cheeks, Dany shifted in the hay, and smoothed her hands across her nightgown. Jon’s gaze had turned positively feral as he looked at her. Dany squirmed under his gaze, but Jon caught her hand before she could escape.

“Come here,” He said with a tender a smile, and for a moment she saw in his eyes the boy she had married all those years ago. Stomach a flutter, Dany looked at him, and he gently tugged at her hand, “Come here,” He repeated even more softly. Tentatively, Dany moved closer to him, and they smiled at each other. Jon brought his arm around her and bore her down into the hay and kissed her soundly. Her heart was pounding in her chest now, as she sank her fingers into his soft curls and kissed him back. When he came up for air, Dany grinned breathlessly at him.

“Jon Snow, do you intend to have me right here in the hay?” She laughed and started to sit up but Jon still held her tightly to him.

“Aye,” He whispered without shame, and Dany knew her cheeks were bright red again. She looked into his eyes and stroked his bearded cheek. Dany took a breath as she felt his hands skim down the side of her night gown, which he began to ruck up around her waist. As she felt his hand brush her thigh, one of the sheep bleated loudly, causing them both to startle. Now it was Dany’s turn to laugh, as Jon cursed at the sheep.

Dany pushed at his arm, urging him to let her up, “There is hay poking at my arse, Jon.”

Jon chuckled, and let her rise, and she felt his eyes on her as he too got up from the hay. Lacing their fingers together, the two of them secured the barn and headed inside.

Once Jon had ensured Ghost was warm enough in his little bed, he shut the bedroom door behind them, and Dany stared at the bed. No sheep, no thunderstorms, and no distractions, and suddenly everything in the bedroom seemed infinitely more complicated. Jon laced their fingers together and kissed her forehead.

“There is no rush, love,” He whispered, gruffly, before smiling kindly, “We don’t have to make a baby tonight.”

Dany chuckled, turned to him, and hugged him. He wrapped his arms tight around her.

“We haven’t got eggs for breakfast in the morning,” Dany said, as she placed a tender kiss against his chest, trying to calm her racing her heart.

“Is this how our sudden need for chickens arose?” Jon smiled, and threaded his fingers through her hair. She remembered how much he loved her hair, it was why she had never been able to bring herself to cut it, even when it was tedious to care for during the war. There were nights during the war when she lay awake, trying desperately to sleep, when she would imagine Jon running his fingers through her hair, whispering words of love into her ear.

“Yes,” She admitted with a grin as she ran her hands down his chest, “That’s actually why I came out to the barn, I meant to tell you that you would not have any eggs for your breakfast.”

Jon stroked her cheek with his thumb, while his other hand went to her waist, drawing her closer, “I’d eat stale bread for breakfast… as long as I am with you.” His grip on her waist tightened a bit.

“I think you’d get tired of stale bread,” Dany laughed softly and leaned into him, “and then what kind of wife would I be?”

“Mine.”

“Yours,” Dany agreed, and with that Jon captured her mouth in a kiss both tender and strong, and so _Jon_ that she could have cried. Dany, however, did not cry anymore, somewhere in the midst of chaos, burning buildings, and pulling bullets out of the bodies of young men, she had forgotten how.

Jon’s arms wrapped around her, and she melted into him. He kissed her like he needed her to breathe… he always had. She kissed him back, needing to forget the chaos, and the burning buildings, and the bullet holes. Jon picked her up, just as he had on their wedding night, and carried her, like a bride, to their bed. Ever so gently he laid her down and dropped to his knees at her feet.

“God, woman, we need to get you some new boots,” Jon suddenly chuckled as he took her ankle in hand and lifted her booted foot to inspect the hole in the side.

“Do you really want to talk about my boots right now?” Dany teased, with a smirk.

“Was it really chickens that brought you out to the barn?” Jon teased right back, as he unlaced her boots. Dany propped herself up on her elbows to study her husband in the dim lantern light. His eyes were twinkling with mirth.

“Yes!” She protested with a laugh, and a blush across her cheeks. Jon crawled up the bed and hovered over her on all fours. Dany took a deep shuddery breath and smiled up at him.

“I think you just wanted me in bed beside ya,” Jon playfully nipped her nose.

“I think I can put myself to bed,” Dany quipped.

“Can you now?” Jon kissed her forehead. Dany reached her hand up and stroked his beard, thinking of all the nights during the war that she had done just that… gone to bed cold, and alone, and weary.

“But I don’t want too,” She whispered, “Not ever again.”

Jon captured her lips again, and nearly collapsed atop her. Dany let out a breath and a laugh as she ran her own fingers through his soft curls.

“God, sorry, am I crushing you?” Jon asked, starting to lift off of her. Dany was quick to wrap her arms around him.

“Don’t you dare move,” she whispered, as her heart hammered in her chest.

“Aye,” Jon shifted, just enough to slip his arms around her shoulders. He nuzzled his nose and mouth against her neck, and for a moment they just held each other and breathed. “I love you so very much.”

Dany kissed his neck, “And I love you.”

Jon lifted his head up to look at her, before he was kissing her again. Before the war, Dany and Jon could spend hours just kissing. When he came up for a breath, and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. Dany offered him a smile, as she touched his cheek.

“I like your beard,” She whispered, feeling like a blushing, fidgety bride even though their wedding night felt like a different life on a different world. Perhaps it had been? The world had changed. She had changed. He had changed. She wondered if anything could be the same after everything they had been through. 

With a gentle smile, Jon skimmed his hand up her nightgown. He kissed her again, before asking, “Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” Dany whispered, her hand still stroking her cheek. She shivered as Jon moved, and taking the hem of her nightgown brought it over her head. He looked a little awestruck as he stared at her bare form, clad only in her knickers. Laying down beside her, he stroked his fingertips up her side, and down her stomach. Dany watched him, not sure whether to direct his hands to where she wanted them or let him explore. They had been together plenty of times before, and yet every movement felt unpracticed and unsure. He ran one finger just beneath the waistline of her underwear causing her belly to quiver. Jon looked at her then, his other hand smoothing some of her hair out of her face. He smiled.

“Is this alright, love?” He flattened his palm just above her navel, “Can I take these off?”

Dany lifted her head and kissed him softly, “Yes, but only if you take your shirt off.”

His smile became big and bright, the type of smile that always took her breath away, “Aye, I think that’s a fair trade.”

Dany giggled as he hastily removed his shirt and pants, before very gently pulling her last garment down her legs and off. Dany studied his naked body, and he stood stock still for a moment, letting her eyes wonder. Though her cheeks were hot, and likely bright red, Dany spread her legs to make room for him as he stalked back up the bed. He pressed a kiss to her knee, and then to her thigh, and then her stomach. She reached down and stroked his hair, as her breathing became heavy. When his kisses trailed south instead of north, Dany gasped and felt her back arch up off the bed. His hand reached up and laced their fingers together. Dany gripped his hand hard and heard herself moan.

“I’ve got ya, love,” He whispered, his accent had always become thicker in their moments of passion. She trembled as his sweet kisses continued until she cried out, and collapsed against the bed shaking, and breaths coming out in gasps.

Smiling, he began to move up her body, dropping kisses against her skin as he went. Dany, trying to regain some semblance of composure though she had the fleeting thought that composure was not the point, stroked his hair and looked up at the ceiling. She felt him lay a hand between her breasts, and she looked down at him.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” He whispered, before moving his hand and placing a kiss in its wake. Suddenly, his kisses landed on her scar, and Dany shuddered. He looked into her eyes.

“You never told me what happened,” He stated simply, his finger brushing along the scar. She wondered if she hurt him, after all when he had been wounded, he had told her.

“I will tell you,” Dany assured, before taking a breath, “But not tonight.” She wanted tonight to be about this, about them, not about the war. There was too much to say about the war, to say now. Jon accepted this with a nod before closing his mouth around one of her nipples and sucking. Dany released a moan so loud, that Jon’s head popped up.

“Does that feel good, love?” He asked, in concern.

“Yes, yes,” She murmured, her hands directing his head back to her breast, “Don’t stop!”

Chuckling, he returned his attention to her breasts, and lowered his weight atop her. He ran his hand down her side, to her knee, silently urging her to open her legs a bit more. When she did, her whole body began to tremble and her breathing became pants, as she felt him nudging against her. Jon pulled away from her breasts and brought his eyes level with hers. His eyes searched hers, and she gave him a tender smile.

“Ready?” He asked, in gruff whisper.

“Yes,” she responded breathlessly, “Oooh,” she gasped, burying her face against his neck as he started to push inside her.

“You feel so good, love,” He murmured in her ear, as one of his hands came up to cradle her head against him, “So warm and soft… like silk.”

Dany whimpered at his sweet words and wrapped her legs around his waist to anchor herself. Jon lifted his head, stilling his movements for a moment.

“Let me look at you, love,” He whispered, and Dany brought her eyes to his and they stared each other, both shaking as he gave another firm push and he was fully seated inside her. Dany felt her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Are you alright?” He asked, obviously straining to control himself. Dany, panting, brought a hand up to stroke his cheek, and smiled.

“Yes,” She whispered, and moaned softly as he started to rock back and forth, setting a gentle, but almost maddeningly slow pace. Another night she might have urged him onto his back, or demanded he go faster, but somehow tonight, in this moment, this felt right. As he moved inside her, he whispered words of love into her ear, making her toes curl and her body tremble. Dany soaked up his tenderness like she was starving for it, perhaps she was? And for the first time, in so very long, she felt like his wife again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this scene, I was trying to capture love and tenderness, but also the awkwardness of being apart for so long and all the unspoken things they have still between them. I'm not sure if I was successful or not, but felt this was the appropriate moment to close the chapter.


	10. Wild Heather (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments and for reading! You keep me motivated. 
> 
> Also, Sansa and Dany's relationship is going to be rocky for a little bit, but please, please be patient with Sansa, she has issues she is dealing with too, just like Dany does, we just don't know about Sansa's yet but they will be revealed in due time. Their relationship in this fic is going to be more of a process than most of my other fics.

When Dany woke it was still dark outside, and Jon had an arm and leg slung over her naked form. She pulled the quilt up to cover her bare breasts and slowly turned to look at his dear face. After they had loved each other last night, Jon had run his fingers through her hair and whispered sweet words into her ear until she was lulled to sleep, just as she had imagined he might during the war. Rising, she winced feeling a slight ache between her legs from his being inside her after so many years apart. He had been gentle, though, and tender, just as she knew he would be, and trusted that he would remain even after all the horrors of war he had seen. Dany wrapped her robe around her, and went into the main room of their cottage, closing the door behind her. Ghost rose from his bed and scampered up to her.

“Hello sweet boy,” She scratched behind the pup’s ears before going to put a kettle on for tea. Waiting for the kettle to boil, Dany opened the door to one of their spare rooms to assess the work she still needed to do on the interior of the cottage. Her eye caught sight of the cradle that had been left for their eventual use, and sighed. Placing a hand on her flat stomach, she knew the likelihood of her being pregnant from their one coupling was slim to none, but she wished for it just the same. They needed life after being surrounded by so much death. Dany had not menstruated in quite some time, and that concerned her, but she knew that could happen if a woman’s body was under stress. She hoped with the war over and settling into life on their farm would help restore health and vitality to her body. When the kettle sounded Dany returned to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She peeked out the window, the sun would rise soon, and so, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she took her cup of tea and beckoned Ghost to follow her.

The little pup frolicked beside her and nipped playfully at her heels as they walked into the pasture. The morning sun was starting to spill over the highlands, illuminating the trees and the pastures with rivers of gold. As the morning mists dissipated, Dany, for a moment thought she could hear the bagpipes she used to imagine pervaded the Scottish air, turning the north into a fairy kingdom. Ghost wove himself in and out of the wild heather, sometimes disappearing in its depth. In the distance she could see a family of dear scattering back into the woods, and she smiled. Everything was peaceful, and Dany thought she could sit here in the dewy grass watching the sun rise over the highlands for the rest of her life. She startled when she felt a gentle but calloused hand gently knead the back of her neck. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled up at Jon, and he sat down beside her, his own cup of tea in his hands. Remaining quiet, not wanting to break the tranquility of their magic mountain kingdom, Dany lay her head against Jon’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her hair. Together they watched as dawn became morning, and the world began to wake.

Jon put his arm around her, and then chuckled.

“Shite, Dany, you are quite naked under that robe, aren’t you?”

Dany giggled, “Aye, I am,” she turned her face to him and kissed his cheek. His eyes softened.

“Are you feeling... alright, love?” He asked, his brow now furrowed in concern, “After last night?”

Sighing contentedly, she laced their fingers together, “There is a little ache,” he started to interrupt her, but she shushed him, “But I feel like a wife again.”

He leaned her back into the crook of his elbow and kissed her soundly on the mouth, before pulling back and looking into her eyes again, “That’s good then, yes?”

She laughed softly, “Yes, I quite like being your wife.”

He kissed her forehead and held her to him, “I’m sorry for the ache, I did not mean to hurt you.”

She reached up and stroked his cheek, “It’s not a bad ache… it’s just been so long, since last we….”

“Aye, it has,” Jon agreed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Ghost bounded up to them then, and nearly leapt into Jon’s lap atop Dany. He flopped down beside Dany, unable to keep his balance on her lap. They both laughed at the pup, who immediately began to curl up against Dany’s shawl.

“I think he thinks you are his mother,” Jon chuckled.

“I don’t know about that,” Dany grinned, and petted the little wolf, “He is much fonder of you, perhaps he thinks you are his mother.”

Jon laughed heartily at that, and tightened his arm around her, “Perhaps.”

As they sat there, in silence, Jon’s hand drifted, and she had to grin as it eventually found its way inside her robe and rested over one of her bare breasts. She pretended not to notice, petting Ghost’s soft white fur where he had ended up beside her, while Jon caressed her tenderly.

Jon leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss so deep and firm it stole her breath. When he began to urge her to lay back, Dany shivered, and put a steadying hand on his chest.

“Jon, that will have to wait…” Dany said hesitantly, thinking of the soreness between her legs, though she felt other stirrings as well. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her again, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“Aye, love, there’s no need for that right now,” He said gruffly, “I just want to kiss you for a bit, may I kiss you?”

Dany felt her face flush, “Right here in the heather? What if someone walks up,” She grinned at him, “As you aptly pointed out, I’m quite naked under my robe.”

“I think the heather hides us well enough,” He smiled and nipped at her nose. Her chuckle was swallowed up by him in another kiss that lit her blood on fire. Dany laid back as he urged, and threaded her fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. One of Jon’s arms was around her shoulder anchoring her tightly to him, while his other hand rested soothingly on her belly, rubbing in soft, slow circles. When that hand began to wonder, it once again found her breast, and when he gave it a firm, but tender squeeze, Dany gasped and felt her back arch into his hand. He smiled against her mouth, but the spell was broken when Ghost suddenly barked at Jon, glaring at him from his spot beside Dany. Both Jon and Dany broke into laughter, and Dany looked fondly into Jon’s eyes. It was good to laugh with him again.

“I suppose Ghost thinks its time to be up and about the chores,” Jon said huskily.

“I am afraid Ghost may be right,” Dany kissed Jon once again, softly this time, “I suppose kissing in the heather will have to wait for another day.”

Agreeing, Jon rose and gave her a hand off the ground. He dusted himself off, then shook out her shawl before pulling it tightly around her. He looked at her backside and laughed.

“Your arse is wet.”

Laughing though she was sure she was blushing as well, Dany smacked his arm, “What a thing to say to your wife!”

Grinning broadly, Jon grabbed her hand to stay any further blows, “I meant from the morning dew,” His eyes twinkled, “God, woman, your mind is in the gutter this morning.”

“My mind?” She asked incredulously and playfully rolled her eyes at his saucy smile, and went to smack him again, but this time he bolted across the pasture with Ghost at his heals. Shaking her head, she chased after him.

He was laughing as she started to catch up to him, but then he ducked to his left and turned to face her, still moving. Their eyes were locked. Dany stopped, and planted her hands on her hips, as she tried to catch her breath. When he stopped moving, Dany lunged at him, thinking he would duck away from her again, making her chase him. This time, however, he caught her around the waist, lifted her up, and spun her around. They both laughed. When he put her down, he kept her tight against him, as they stared at each other. Dany’s heart was racing in her chest. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, letting him coax her mouth open, as he cradled the back of her head in his hand.

“I need to get your breakfast going,” She whispered against his mouth, though the whole world was beginning to narrow around them, to just him and her in the heather.

“I won’t be needing breakfast, as long as I can keep kissing you, right here, just like this,” Jon whispered, and captured her mouth again. His right hand still tangled in her hair, as his left pressed against her lower back. She could feel him hard and ready against her belly, and she wanted him, _to hell with soreness_. They sank down into the heather, with Dany astride his lap, their lips never leaving the other’s. Jon’s hand pressed against her lower back again bearing her down on him where he was pressed between her legs, causing Dany to hiss in pleasure. He continued to kiss her, making no move to bare himself.

“Jon, Jon, Jon….” Dany murmured against his mouth, pressing their chests together, before reaching down to unbutton his pants.

“Dany, what are you doing love?” He groaned.

“I want you,” She gasped.

“Earlier you said you were hurting,” He panted, “and something about the heathers, and people coming…” he was barely making any sense now. Dany wrestled with the button of his pants, and just as she did they leapt apart at the sound of a car coming up their drive.

“Shite!” Jon quickly helped her up, both trying to quickly compose themselves. He threw Dany’s shawl back around her shoulders, to cover her, as they quickly scurried back to their cottage, to find Ghost waiting for them at the door.

Once inside, Dany swiftly made her way to the bedroom, and Jon, who was mostly clothed, stayed in the main room to greet whomever was coming down the road. She hoped he was able to compose himself before whomever was coming down the road got to the door. A few moments later, as she pulled on a short petticoat, she heard a knock on the front door, but she could not make out the voice. Dany braided her hair and pinned it up at the nape of her neck, before buttoning up a blouse. Once she was decent, she made her way out into the main room, to find Lady Catelyn, Sansa and Jeyne. Dany hoped none of them caught a glimpse of her and Jon’s mischief in the pasture.

“We were just telling, Jon, that we are going into Inverness to buy fabric, and do a bit of grocery shopping, and wanted to invite you,” Catelyn smiled kindly.

“Thank you so much,” Dany’s heart warmed, “But I haven’t seen yet to Jon’s breakfast…”

“I’ve already taken care of my breakfast,” Jon gave a significant smile, and Dany hoped her face was not flushed, “You should go, love, and make sure to buy you some new boots.”

“Won’t you need me here to help with chores?” Dany asked. They had a small herd of sheep now, and she did not want to run off shopping and leave him with all the work.

“I will, but there is nothing that won’t keep for right now,” Jon smiled.

“What about the sheep?”

“Oh, I’m just going to feed them then set them in the back pasture with the ram and let nature take it’s course,” Jon said, “When you get back, we can do some work in the garden.”

Dany nodded and fidgeted with her braid.

“Sans, could you help Dany pick out some seeds, that grow best in autumn?” Jon asked.

“Of course,” Sansa replied simply, almost sounding offended that Jon seemed to think she would not. Dany did not quite understand Sansa, she had been perfectly cordial when they had worked together in the garden yesterday, but Dany could tell beneath all the courtesies there was a vague dislike. Jon had said she did not take easily to outsiders, and Dany had to wonder why, after all this was not Scotland of the 18th century; the English were not running amuck and stealing sheep and women from the highlands, at least as far as she knew. Thinking once more of sweet Missandei, Dany felt she could use a friend, and had hoped that she and Sansa could build something of a friendship.

“Alright,” Dany agreed to going, and Jon kissed her cheek. He grabbed his hat then gave Dany’s backside a gentle pat, causing her cheeks to flush and the rest of the women to stifle giggles, as he grinned and headed out, whistling for Ghost to follow, so he could care for the sheep.

* * *

The fabric store in Inverness was bigger than Dany imagined it would be, and Sansa, Catelyn, and Jeyne perused the materials with knowledgeable eyes and skillful fingers. Dany ran her hand over some soft, thick yarns, that she imagined would be quite warm.

“Those yarns make really good blankets for newborns,” Catelyn said softly to Dany, with a secretive grin. Dany did not have the heart to tell any of them that the extent of her sewing knowledge included mending hems, darning socks, and poorly embroidered samplers. Jeyne and Sansa had grown up in privilege just as Dany had, and yet as the daughters of wealthy farmers, it seemed they had come from a different world than the high society London in which Dany was raised. Having grown up in a home with only a father and brother, who had intended for her to marry within their own wealthy and privileged circles, they had not thought it important to prepare Dany to be a Scottish farmer’s wife. Dany tried not to be embarrassed by her own lack of knowledge in such things as sewing, and cooking, and farm work, and determined that she could learn but still it was hard to acknowledge such things to Jon’s family whom she barely knew.

“Can we be expecting a new baby?” Jeyne asked with a teasing grin at Dany.

“One hardly talks about such things, Jeyne,” Sansa scolded.

“Aye, but we’re all women here,” Jeyne’s eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Jon and I would like children one day,” Dany said, trying to be diplomatic.

“There’s still time enough for all of that,” Catelyn said kindly, and Dany could have hugged her.

“Now,” Sansa pulled out a bolt of bright blue, “I think this fabric will go well with that bit of lace I’ve been saving since 1940 for a new party dress.”

Jeyne gasped in delight. Dany had to admit that the fabric would look radiant on Sansa, with her bright blue eyes, and fiery red hair.

“You make all your own clothes?” Dany asked curiously and regretted the question as soon as it came out of her mouth. She sounded like a spoiled Londoner, but Dany had not expected such a thing from Sansa Stark, the princess of Winterfell.

“Yes,” Sansa snapped taking Dany’s statement as a slight.

“Is there a fabric you are partial to Dany? My treat,” Catelyn smiled kindly, obviously trying to ease the tension.

When they left the fabric store, Dany ended up with a couple spools of the yarn she had first seen. She did not know how to knit, but perhaps there was a book at that library in Wintertown, that she had yet to visit, from which she could learn. She liked the idea of being able to knit a blanket for her and Jon’s baby. The other three women than helped Dany pick out seeds for her garden and showed her how to know what grew best planted in the autumn and what grew best planted in the spring. Next Catelyn lead the way to a shoe store to retrieve new boots for Dany.

“Lord have mercy, Dany, I can see straight through to your stocking through that hole in your boot,” Jeyne exclaimed as she examined Dany’s old pair as they perused the shelf for a new pair, “What happened?”

“France happened to them, I’m afraid,” Dany said, trying to chuckle.

“Why didn’t you ever get a new pair?” Jeyne questioned.

“It just did not seem like a practical thing to do at the time,” Dany said, and Sansa covertly roll her eyes. Dany groaned inwardly, _What in the hell did I say now?_

* * *

When the ladies arrived back in Wintertown, it was nearly supper time, and Dany hoped Jon had managed alright on his own for lunch. They dropped Dany off at the cottage and she could see the lanterns lit inside. Soon they would have electricity, but until then their old gas lamps served well enough. Dany almost felt like she lived in a different time. Opening the door, she found Jon scrubbing dirt off himself swiftly in the tub by the fire. She smiled when Ghost padded over to her in greeting. She came up behind Jon and toyed with the hair at the back of his neck.

“What’s your hurry?” She asked with a chuckle.

“I was hoping to be clean by the time you got home,” He smiled, looking up at her. She sat down in her rocking beside the tub, and in front of the warm fire, and put her parcel of yarn in her sewing basket, “Were you able to find new boots?” He asked, and his concern warmed her heart.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Jon grinned and looked at her other parcels, “What else did you get?”

“Well, I’ve got some seeds that Sansa, somewhat begrudgingly, agreed to come help me plant on the morrow,” Dany said, “And…” she paused, feeling suddenly shy, for reasons she herself did not understand, “And… your Aunt Catelyn insisted…” She swallowed, “She bought me some yarn to knit a blanket for our baby if… when the time comes.”

Jon laced his fingers through hers.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to knit though,” Dany confessed.

“You can always learn,” He said then smiled kindly at her, “Or we can buy a baby blanket, seeing as this is not the bloody eighteenth century.”

Dany had to laugh at that. No this was not the eighteenth century, Dany thought somewhat sadly, the eighteenth century, while violent in its own way, did not see the types of wars the twentieth century had seen… wars that engulfed the entire globe. Briefly, Dany saw some of the faces of emaciated refugee children from the concentration camps she had helped treat in the latter months of the conflict. Dany tried to clear her mind. She was home, she was with Jon. It was over. _Would it ever be truly over for those who survived?_


	11. Beach Sand (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and for commenting! You keep me motivated. 
> 
> A few things to keep in mind while reading this chapter... I am certainly no expert on PTSD, and so I hope you can forgive any errors of fact in that regard. Also, from my understanding from my own studies as a student of history, and some basic research for this story, PTSD was not labeled PTSD until the late 1970s and early 1980s. In World War I, it was commonly known as shell shock, and in World War II, as battle fatigue, and it was not well understood in either conflict. 
> 
> This chapter also got a bit more amorous than I originally intended, but I did not think anyone would mind haha. Their lovemaking is still a little bit tinged with awkwardness due to circumstances, but I hope the tenderness is evident as well. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

“Jon?” came a quiet, woman’s voice. He knew that voice.

“Get up, Snow!” shouted a male voice, urgent and demanding. Jon thought he recognized this voice too.

“Jon?” The female voice repeated. Jon’s lungs were burning, he felt like he was coughing up sand from the beach. He could smell the salt of the English Channel, and he could smell something else… Jon thought he might vomit.

“Jon?” The female voice called to him again.

“Get up, Snow!” demanded the male voice again. Jon had to get up, if he did not get up, he would die on this beach.

“Jon?” The female voice was more insistent. _How many died on the beach?_ He had to get up.

Jon felt his body give a startled lurch, and then his eyes flew open, he was gasping for breath. He was not on the beach. He could not smell the English Channel, nor anything else. There was no sand in his mouth. He was sitting up in a bed. _That’s right_, he thought to himself, _I’m in Scotland_. He was safe, and he was home. _Dany_. He looked over to see her sitting up, with her legs curled beneath her and leaning against the headboard of their bed, watching him as she hugged her pillow to herself. She gnawed on her lower lip. Her bright blue eyes were studying him.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked her. Dany gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I’m fine,” She said softly, “Are _you_ alright? You were thrashing in your sleep.” It was her voice, he had heard.

Jon looked out the window and saw that it was still dark outside, “Yes, I’m fine,” he replied, simply. She seemed to weigh her next words.

“I’ve seen battle fatigue before, Jon,” she said finally.

Jon felt strangely irritated by that assessment, “I don’t have battle fatigue, I haven’t seen combat in over three months.”

“After the Great War, they called it shell shock,” Dany stated.

“I haven’t seen actual combat in over three months,” Jon reiterated, feeling oddly vulnerable about having to discuss this in bed under her calculating eyes.

“That doesn’t matter,” Dany said, softly. She reached for his hand, but he snatched it away. He felt strangely averse to being comforted right now. He regretted it, though, as soon as he looked at her face. Dany was frowning at him and started to settle herself back under their quilt. She turned her back to him.

“Goodnight, Jon,” She whispered. Jon just wanted to hold her. He was not sure what to say, and so he turned on his side as well, and studied her back and her pretty hair. Tentatively, he reached out, and placed his hand on her waist. Still, she did not turn to face him, but when she did not protest his hand, Jon drew closer, sliding his arm around her waist, and pulling them close, until his chest was pressed against her back. He kissed into her hair.

“Goodnight, love.”

* * *

When Jon woke, Dany’s was no longer turned away from him. Her face was pressed against his bare chest and he could feel her soft, even breaths. Very carefully, trying not to wake her, Jon put both his arms around her and held her close to him. He grinned when he felt her lift her leg, and drape it over his, and her own arm coming around him, until she was clinging to him. She seemed to still be asleep, but he did not want to disturb this perfect moment by checking. He could feel his body stir… if they did not get up soon, he would be ready for much more than just cuddling…he was already half-way there. Looking down at her, he smoothed some hair out of her face. She was so beautiful. Jon smoothed his hand down her side. As he gave her hip a gentle squeeze, he chuckled realizing she was not wearing any knickers beneath her nightgown. Without making a sound, he felt Dany press a gentle kiss to his chest, over his heart. She was awake. Their first time as man and wife since being reunited had only been a couple of nights ago, but Jon found himself longing for her. Dany shifted a bit closer, and though she remained quiet, he definitely could tell she was awake. As romantic as the possibility of making love in the heather the other morning had seemed, Jon was glad they were in bed right now, as he did not want her to feel tense and nervous that someone could stumble upon them in a compromising situation. He was acutely aware that they were rebuilding the intimacy between them and he wanted her to feel safe when they made love. Slowly, he lowered his hand to her bottom, kneading it gently. He felt her release a breathy sigh against his chest. Both still completely silent, Jon began to pull her nightgown up slowly, and he smiled when he felt her hand coming to help him. Still, she kept her face pressed close to his chest. Once they had rolled the nightgown up to just under her breasts, Jon let his hand slide back down her stomach, and between her legs to stroke her. He could feel her breathing becoming heavier against his chest, as her fingers dug into his back. Stroking slow and steady between her legs, Jon kissed the top of her head, and cradled her against him with his other arm. She released a very soft whimper, a sound that set his heart to racing and ignited a sense of urgency within him that he fought to control. Dany reached a tentative hand down between his own legs, unbuttoning his pants. As she urged his pants off, his hand between her legs moved ever so slightly faster. He felt a shudder go through her body.

“Dany,” he groaned, “Can we… may I…?” he murmured the words against her hair. With her face still buried against his chest, he felt her nod.

“Yes,” she said in a breathy whisper, and that was all Jon needed to hook his hand under her knee, to keep her legs open, while he rolled on top of her. Panting, she laid her head against his shoulder so sweetly and trustingly, that Jon thought his heart might crack open. Jon kissed her neck that was bared to him, and nuzzled his nose into her hair. Jon kissed the top her head, as she clung to him, both her arms wrapped tightly around him, and her head tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. He brought one of his hands up to cradle her head, bracing himself above her, as his other hand reached down to align himself with her. Jon touched her thigh urging her to open them a bit more and groaned when she responded with wrapping her legs around his waist. Her whole body seemed to surge when he nudged against her, then finally, very slowly, mindful of her words the other morning about soreness, he gently began to push inside. Her legs and arms around him tightened, and she released a sharp moan where her face was still pressed to the side of his neck.

“Is there pain?” He grunted trying to control himself, as he sheathed himself fully inside her.

“No, no,” She whispered, panting heavily, “Feels good, just full, don’t stop,” She gasped out, still clinging tightly to him, and Jon felt like he was completely wrapped up in her as he firmly rocked their hips together. When her head finally fell from it’s resting place against his shoulder, to fall into the pillows, Jon took that opportunity to lean down, moving her nightgown to the side, and captured one of her breasts in his mouth. He sucked, and she cried out passionately, her fingers tightening on his back. Vaguely, as he tended to her breasts, he wondered what she would look like pregnant, and what it would be like to bring new life into the world together.

Their bodies rocked together, each thrust eliciting deep moans and sighs, while he sucked on her breasts, until they both finished in a sated heap on their bed. Jon buried his face against her neck and stroked her hair in way that he hoped was soothing to her. They remained unmoving and quiet for a long while, with Jon still atop her and her knees still drawn up and back. Jon wished he could spend all day in this bed with his wife, but alas, he knew he needed to get to his chores. The life of a farmer generally began before the sun came up. Jon could not bring himself to move, but when he felt Dany’s fingers brush back some of his hair, he raised his head to look at her. Her eyes sparkled and her hair and forehead were sweaty, and she looked thoroughly loved. Jon kissed her, and she kissed him back with a tenderness that made him melt.

“We need to let Ghost outside, if he hasn’t wet himself already,” She whispered.

“Aye, and I need to tend to the sheep.”

“Yes,” She replied, and gasped softly as he withdrew from her. Jon pressed another kiss to her forehead before rising. Dany did not move. He chuckled.

“Aren’t you getting up, love?”

She gave him a sleepy smile, “I’m just trying to compose myself for a moment.”

Jon leaned back over her and smoothed some sweaty hair from forehead. She looked up at him and grinned.

“You may have just rendered me unable to walk,” Dany teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Jon roared with laughter at that, and unable to stop himself, he kissed her again.

“I will leave you to compose yourself then,” He said with a chuckle as he pulled on pants and a shirt for the day. He was keenly aware of her eyes studying him and he wondered what she was thinking. _Should he ask her? _He supposed she, like many people, himself included, had a myriad of thoughts after making love, but before the war she had never been so reticent about sharing them. “I’m going to go set the sheep out in the pasture,” He said, grabbing his hat.

“I’ll have breakfast ready after,” Dany said. Giving her one last smile, he made his way outside, beckoning Ghost to follow.

* * *

Jon always made sure Ghost went out to the pastures with him, wanting the pup to grow up knowing sheep. He was not sure if he could train a wolf to herd sheep, but he could at least ensure that Ghost would not be killing their sheep when he was grown. Before corralling the sheep out toward the pasture, Jon checked on their pregnant ewe. He had yet to become an expert on the matter, but he knew roughly what to look for and to him it seemed that the ewe may lamb earlier than expected.

“Come on Ghost,” Jon beckoned the pup, who happily trotted beside him, while they corralled the sheep into the pasture. When he was finished replenishing water, and checking food stores, an hour had passed, and so Jon secured the gate and started to make his way toward the cottage. That was when he noticed smoke coming from the kitchen window. Feeling panic threatening to choke him, he broke into a run.

Without a moment of hesitation or thought, Jon threw open their front door and charged inside. The kitchen was full of smoke, but he did not see any flames.

“Dany!” he called out to her, fear as much as smoke constricting his throat. When he went into the kitchen through the haze of smoke, he saw flames licking out of the open stove.

“Dany?” He called again, as he rushed to the stove and threw the stove door closed and closed the vents, hoping to starve the fire of oxygen. Ghost was barking at the front door. Jon strode to the window and threw it open, and that was when he saw Dany on the floor. Her back was against the cabinets, and she was hugging her knees to herself. Her eyes were wide staring at the stove.

“Dany?” Jon called to her again, when she did not respond, he continued to open all the windows, making sure to keep her in his line of sight as he did so. Nothing appeared to have caught fire, and she seemed unharmed, but her unresponsiveness concerned him deeply. Once all the windows were open, and he checked the stove to ensure the flames had dwindled out, Jon knelt in front of her.

“Dany?” He touched her elbows, trying to get her to uncurl from the balled-up position she had curled herself into. Her eyes finally met his, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Jon,” She said softly.

“Yes, I am here,” He tugged at her elbows again, “Come on, lets get out of this smoke.”

She nodded and clutched his arms as they stood together.

“I was trying to cook biscuits for our breakfast,” She said somewhat dazed as they made their way to the front yard.

“Are you hurt?” Jon asked, touching her face, and looking her over.

“No, I’m fine,” She absentmindedly touched her collarbone. Curled up on the floor after the stove caught fire did not indicate _fine_ to Jon, but he made no comment. They sat down in the grass.

“There is tea on the kitchen table,” Dany said, “We might as well drink it while the house airs out.”

Jon chuckled at that, and nodded, trotting back into the house. The smoke was already beginning to clear, which calmed Jon’s racing heart considerably. The fire in the stove was not as bad as he first imagined, the acrid smoke most have emanated from the burning of the biscuits and pan she had put in the stove. Checking on the stove once more to ensure the fire had fully extinguished, Jon then grabbed the tea pot and two cups and returned to Dany on the front lawn.

Dany poured tea for them both, and quietly sipped.

“I was trying to make biscuits, and I don’t know if I turned the gas up too high, but they just caught fire,” She explained.

“Those old gas stoves can be dangerous,” Jon said. He did not mean to sound condescending, but when he looked at her face, he cringed.

“I’m not a child, Jon, I know old gas stoves are dangerous,” She snapped, somewhat unfairly in his opinion considering the circumstances, but he did not want to pick a fight.

He sighed, “I’m sorry about the biscuits.”

She looked at her feet, before a small smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, “They probably tasted like shite anyway, I really had no idea what I was doing.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and they both chuckled.

As they finished their tea, and Dany snuggled Ghost in her lap, Jon studied her from his place stretched out in the grass. The image of her curled up on the ground not one he could easily put aside. She flinched when he reached out and touched her ankle.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asked.

“I told you what happened,” She said, evasively, “The biscuits caught fire.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Jon said, “And I think you know that.”

She suddenly glared at him, taking him off guard, “Perhaps I’ll tell you, when you tell me what you were dreaming about last night?”

_That stung_. They stared at each other having reached an impasse. They both returned to their tea in silence, and Jon watched as Dany rubbed Ghost’s belly, and talked sweet nonsense to the little pup. After a while, Jon deemed the house fit for reentry and Dany escaped quickly back inside not making eye contact with him, and once again he was left to wonder at her reticence, and perhaps his own. _Could he tell her about the beach?_

* * *

At midday, Jon had come back inside the cottage for lunch and found his meal on the table, set for one. Jon caught her hand, as she started to leave the room.

“Aren’t you going to eat with me?” He asked.

“I’m not hungry,” She said softly, “And I’m in the middle of unloading one of the boxes in the spare room.”

“Surely that can wait?” Jon asked, taking his meals with her was one of his favorite parts of the day.

“I just want to get it done, so that this cottage can finally start to look like our home,” She said.

“We’ve only been here a week,” Jon said, feeling that this was logical.

“Yes, and I’ve hardly touched any of the boxes because I knew we needed to get the garden and sheep started,” Dany said flatly, “I need to spend some time getting the house organized too.”

“There is no rush,” Jon said, “I can help you when I’m done eating.”

“You need to tend the sheep,” Dany said.

“The sheep are grazing.”

“Then perhaps we should turn attention to the field we are going to plant in the spring,” Dany evaded. Jon stood up from the table and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, I am not angry with you,” She looked up at him.

“You seem angry.”

“I’m not angry,” She reiterated, and tried to smile, “Now eat your lunch, before I feed it to Ghost.”

Jon sat back down, baffled, as he watched her disappear into their spare bedroom.

* * *

Late that night, Jon returned to the cottage after checking on their pregnant ewe one last time before bed. The silence at supper had been oddly strained, and Jon could not tell if she was upset with him or what had happened in the kitchen that morning. Entering the cottage, he found Dany sound asleep on her rocking chair. Smiling fondly, he skimmed his finger down her soft cheek. Ghost perked his ears up, watching him. In Dany’s hands was a magazine. She must have found it in the boxes that had been brought up from Winterfell. Gently, he extracted the magazine from her hand and found it to be a farming magazine, and she had her hand resting on an article about different types of chickens. He chuckled and decided that tomorrow he would go to town and get some lumber so he could build a chicken coop and get her some chickens. He loved and appreciated the way in which she embraced new challenges, always seeking to learn and understand. Dany had always been smart, and he hoped everyday that she did not feel held back by being stuck here in the Highlands. Inverness was only an hour away by car, and though it was a growing city, it could not compete with the hustle and bustle of London that she had grown up in. Jon washed his hands and face in the basin, and doused the lamp in the kitchen, before pulling off his dirty shirt and sitting down beside Dany in what had become his chair.

“Missandei,” Dany murmured in her sleep. Jon looked at her, only able to watch over her, as he saw her eyes beneath her lids rapidly moving back and forth. He reached over and took her hand, wishing he could save her from the nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: A trip to town for lumber, and to the library, and their ewe gives birth (Dany POV)


	12. Work to be Done (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out bigger than I thought it would be, I am a little nervous with how it turned out as there are a lot of moving pieces to this plot and I want to keep it moving and not miss anything. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys.

Dany took eggs and toast off the stove top burner, having decided to leave the wretched oven alone for a while. Glancing out the kitchen window, she wondered if Jon was going to come inside, he usually came in about this time to have breakfast… not that they had been here long enough to establish a real pattern. She put the serving dish on the table and sipped her tea and watched him working with the sheep through the window. He had already been up and outside when she woke this morning, which she had found disappointing. She thought of how they woke yesterday morning, all tangled together, that when he had slipped inside her it felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps it was. Knowing that such a strong and brave man, could be so very gentle made her want to cling to him even more, and never let him go. Dany imagined if she woke every morning like that, she could die a happy woman. Smiling sadly to herself, she watched as he ran around the pasture with Ghost, laughing like a boy again, and appearing to have no plans to come inside for breakfast. Dany had not meant to put him at arm’s length yesterday after the incident with the stove, but she had been rattled, and had not known how to salvage the situation and by supper time she had not known what to say.

Deciding to take action, Dany filled a plate with enough food for them both and marched out to the pasture. He was sitting on the fence now, watching Ghost frolic around the sheep. He stood when he saw her approaching.

“I brought our breakfast,” She said.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jon raked his hand through his hair.

“You can’t spend time out here in the pasture all day without your breakfast,” She smiled, and hoped that he would take it as the peace offering that it was meant to be.

“I wasn’t planning to be out in the pasture all day,” Jon said, but accepted the plate of food anyway and sat back down on the fence and motioned for her to sit beside him. Dany sat on the rail, somewhat ungracefully as she tried to keep her legs covered with her knee length skirt.

“What were you planning then?” Dany asked, as Jon put some eggs on one of the pieces of toast and handed it to her before he did the same for himself.

“I thought we might go to town together and get some lumber,” Jon’s eyes met hers then, the hesitance returning, “That is if you want to go with me?”

“Yes, I want to go with you,” She assured him.

“Good.”

“Why do we need lumber?” Dany asked curiously.

“Fulfilling a request,” He said with a playful smile.

“What request?”

“For chickens.”

“Oh, Jon,” Dany looked down at her new boots, “We don’t have to worry about that right now… it was just an idea I had, I don’t to put more work on you.”

“Nonsense,” Jon took her hand, and kissed it, “I think it was a wise idea, besides we will help each other… this is both our farm after all.”

Dany gave his hand a squeeze, appreciative that she married a man who took her seriously. She loved him. She loved him very much.

* * *

When they made it to town, Dany saw that the library was only a few doors down from the lumber yard, and so while Jon went to choose lumber for their chicken coop, Dany went to explore the library for books on gardening, knitting, and perhaps raising chickens. Jon told her that he would meet her there when he was done. When she opened the wooden door that chimed with a little bell, a young woman behind the desk greeted her, looking a little surprised to see a stranger walk through the door.

“Hello,” Her Scottish brogue was even thicker than the Starks’.

“Hello,” Dany smiled.

“You need any help finding anything, just let me know,” she said.

“Thank you,” Dany said. It had been years since Dany had had time to read a book, and she ran her fingers reverently along the book spines on the shelf, wishing she could devour them all. She found the book Roslin Tully had spoken of, and pulled it from the shelf, and continued to peruse the beautiful shelves.

The library was small but had a better selection than she had imagined in so remote a village. Dany could have cried if she remembered how. She thought of all the books she had heard had been burned in Germany in the 1930s, and somehow felt this tiny library in the wilds of Scotland was a healing balm to her once tender soul. Turning the corner to go down another aisle, Dany nearly ran into a pudgy young man, about Jon’s age, pushing a book cart.

“Oh…hello…” He stammered, his hands fidgeting with the books on his cart.

“Hello,” Dany smiled at him.

“Do you… do you need help finding anything?” The man asked.

“No, no,” Dany said, “I’m just enjoying being around books again.”

The man smiled then, a sort of understanding seeming to pass between them, “Well, if you need any recommendations, just ask me, or… or Gilly, she has quite good taste as well,” He said it like they were hatching a conspiracy, and Dany could only smile.

“I’m…I’m Samwell Tarly,” the man introduced himself, offering her his hand to shake. Dany shook it.

“Dany Snow,” She said.

“Snow?” The man’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes, Jon Snow, Ned Stark’s nephew, is my husband,” Dany explained. Sam laughed.

“Oh, I know who Jon Snow is,” Sam grinned, “He’s been my best mate since we were lads.”

“You are Sam?” Dany asked, almost incredulously, then laughed, “I thought you lived in Edinburgh.” Jon had told her stories of Sam a long time ago, and granted she had envisioned him quite differently, she was happy to stumble upon him here.

“Oh, well… we did… but after what with the war and all… it just felt like it was time to come home,” Sam explained.

Dany nodded, understandingly, “Yes.”

“Is Jon here?” Sam asked, smiling broadly, “I had heard he was moving back to the mountain but did not realize he was back.”

“He’s at the lumber yard, he is picking me up here after,” Dany smiled, and as if on cue they heard the little bell chime, then two loud voices.

“Jon!” came the voice of the young woman at the circulation desk.

“Gilly!” shouted Jon. Dany and Sam smiled at each other before joining their spouses at the front of the library.

When Jon caught sight of Sam, Dany saw his eyes mist over with emotion.

“Sam!” he exclaimed, and the two men embraced like long lost brothers, “Have you been hiding from me?”

“Oh, well… no…” Sam stammered, “I just… I didn’t realize you were back.”

They embraced again, and Dany smiled. Jon then reached for Dany’s hand and pulled her toward the young woman, whom Dany now noticed was obviously pregnant.

“Dany this is Gilly, Sam’s wife,” Jon introduced them.

“Its nice to meet you, Gilly,” Dany shook her hand.

“Happy to know you,” Gilly agreed.

“Where’s Little Sam?” Jon asked, excitedly, “Don’t tell me he’s already old enough to be in school?”

“No, no,” Gilly smiled, “He’s with Dr. Aemon right now, I’m about to go pick him up actually.”

Gilly, to Dany’s surprise, hugged her, “We must all get together sometime soon, before this little one comes,” Gilly said with a glowing smile.

“Yes,” Dany agreed, and hugged Gilly in return. Gilly then left to go pick up their son.

“I thought you two were still in Edinburgh?” Jon asked, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

“We were but after the war ended, we decided to come home,” Sam explained.

“Were you…” Jon started, but Sam seemed to know exactly what he was going to ask and chuckled.

“No, no, do you think they would have let someone like me into combat?” Sam asked, waving his hand at his pudgy body, “We were able to remain in Edinburgh, and I joined up and became an intelligence analyst, they wanted me to go to Bletchley, but the war ended before they transferred me, which worked out fine because it gave Gilly time to finish her training as a midwife.”

“How did the two of you come to be running the library?” Jon asked.

“It was Dr. Aemon’s idea,” Sam explained, “He’s getting on in years you know, and he found he could not run it on his own anymore, and so he gave it to me and Gilly.”

“Does Dr. Aemon still see patients?” Jon asked.

“Well, Dr. Aemon’s eyes are starting to fail him,” Sam said sadly, “He will see patients if there is no one else, but often Gilly goes with him to help. She is hoping to build up her own practice as a midwife and working with Aemon gives people much more confidence in her, which is good because the old midwife, Melisandre over at Loch Ness really lives too far away to be delivering babies here.”

Jon nodded understandingly, “It’s good to see you, Sam.”

“Good to see you too, Jon, and mostly unscathed,” Sam said, though his eyes grew serious, and Dany could tell that the two men understood each other.

“Aye, mostly,” Jon clapped his shoulder again, “I want to stay and talk but the Mormont’s offered to drive me and Dany back up to our cottage, since they are delivering lumber for us.”

“We will all have to have dinner together,” Dany suggested.

“I think that that’s a fantastic idea,” Jon took her hand and kissed it. They bid Sam farewell, and made their way back to the lumber yard.

* * *

Jeor Mormont was a big surly old man, with a heart of gold, that made Dany smile.

“My son, Jorah, disappeared in the early years of the war,” Jeor explained sadly to Dany, as Jon and several of Jeor’s nieces unloaded lumber at their cottage.

“I’m sorry,” Dany said sympathetically, and looked over at Jon whose cousin Arya was still missing last they heard.

“I keep holding out hope that he will show up one day,” Jeor said, then patted his oldest niece, Dacey’s shoulder as she walked by, “But the girls, their mother Maege was my sister god rest her soul, and the girls have been a great help to me, though I daresay if we don’t get them out of the lumber yard, and into some dresses they are likely to never find husbands.”

Dany chuckled.

“I haven’t got any need for a husband, uncle,” Dacey laughed, but Dany believed her. Today at the lumber yard, Dany had met three of the five Mormont girls, Dacey, Alysane, and Jorelle, and all three were bold, stocky women who appeared to have things managed, whether Jeor was there or not. Dany was told that the third oldest, Lyra, was the only one of the five who was wed, and then the youngest, Lyanna, was of course, still in school.

“They all keep tell me that,” Jeor said with a guffaw, “And I don’t mind, I think I would be quite lonely up on our mountain without them running about.”

“It’s been quite sometime since Dacey or I could be considered, _running about_,” Alysane teased her uncle, as the last of the lumber was placed in the barn. Jeor chuckled, before clapping Jon on the shoulder.

“It’s good to have you back in town, Snow,” Jeor started to get back in their truck, “Give your uncle and aunt my regards.”

“I will,” Jon said, “Thank you, Mr. Mormont.”

Jeor chuckled, “Jeor is good enough, lad, you are not the broody kid you used to be.”

Jon laughed and they bid the Mormonts farewell.

* * *

Jon followed Dany inside the house and helped her pull out the two boxes they had shipped from their London house, so that she could sort through them.

“Davos is going to come up and check on our ewe, I think she is close to lambing,” Jon explained.

“Alright,” Dany said, and walked toward the kitchen, “I’ll make a cold supper, he’s welcome to stay if he wants.”

Jon came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Dany grinned, surveying the disarray of their main room as they stood at the kitchen counter.

“There is still so much work to do,” Dany commented, as she leaned back against him, "I've got to put some work toward getting the cottage in order."

Jon kissed her neck before spinning her around to face him. Dany chuckled and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Dany asked teasingly, the feral look in his eye making her blush.

“Granting another request,” Jon smiled and kissed her firmly before putting his hands on her waist and lifting her to sit on the countertop. She laughed.

“And what request was that?” Dany asked, though considering one of his hands had gone to kneading one of breasts, while he wedged himself between her knees, she could have taken a pretty good guess. He kissed her again.

“A baby,” He huffed straightforwardly, as his hands drifted under her skirts, “We’ve got to put some work toward that,” She could feel him smiling where he was nibbling at her neck, “It’s not as simple as going to the lumber yard, you know,” he said.

Dany gasped softly as one of his roving hands cupped her mound, she had one hand clutching his shoulder and the other in his hair, to brace herself, “Well, in all fairness, sometimes it is as simple as going down to the lumber yard…” Dany giggled, and stifled another gasp, as the hand he had between her legs began to probe. Dany felt warm all over. Jon kissed her mouth again.

“But sometimes it isn’t,” He said gently. Dany felt her heart soften, as they pulled back and looked into each other’s eyes.

“Aye, sometimes it isn’t,” Dany agreed, and for a moment he searched her eyes as if looking for something. Dany bit her lip and smiled at him. Feeling suddenly quite vulnerable at the intensity of his gaze, Dany playfully smacked his backside with her foot, eliciting a laugh from him and the seriousness dissipated from his eyes once again.

“Well then,” Dany grinned, “You better get to work, Jon Snow.”

Instead of moving to unbutton his pants, Jon dropped to his knees and slowly pulled off her undergarments.

“Hadn’t you better hurry?” Dany asked with a smile, “Isn’t Davos coming soon to check on our ewe?”

“He won’t come in without knocking,” Jon said with a teasing smirk, before his head disappeared beneath her skirt. She laughed, but when she felt his mouth on her, her hips bucked so fiercely she nearly slipped off the countertop, her hands scrambling to hold onto something. One of his arms reached around her thigh and draped over her stomach to hold her steady.

“Jon Snow, oh,” Dany whimpered, “That is not how you…” she tried to tease but found herself unable to form a complete sentence. His mouth came off of her for a moment.

“I know what I’m about, love,” He said from beneath her skirt, which sent her into a fit of giggles just before his mouth returned to its task. Dany gripped the edge of the countertop and tried to breath.

“Oh,” She whimpered, feeling his tongue moving in slow but firm motions against that spot that never failed to make her shudder, “Oh, Jon…Jon…” she murmured incoherently.

He mumbled something from beneath her skirt that she did not quite understand. Desperately needing to touch him, she rucked her skirt up, and threaded her fingers into his soft hair. He groaned at her touch, as she massaged his scalp while he worked. Dany felt her thighs tighten around his head, and his pace quickened. Sweat was forming on her brow, as she panted. All she could whisper was soft gasps of his name, as the tension in her belly tightened and her toes curled in her shoes. Dany gripped her fist into his hair, only vaguely registering that she could be pulling his beautiful curls. Then the tension snapped, and she cried out, her whole body shaking, as Jon’s mouth continued and worked her through it, until she quieted.

Jon stood up, then, and put his arms around her. He did not immediately move to kiss her, he just hugged her tightly to himself, one hand soothingly stroking her back. Dany wrapped her arms around his middle and let him hold her. She turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to his neck, as her erratic breathing began to even out.

“I love you,” She whispered, holding him tighter. Jon kissed her forehead.

“And I love you,” he said.

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“I want you,” She said softly, as she reached for the button of his trousers. Jon continued to hold onto her as she worked his pants down his hips. Once he was free of them, Dany scooted forward. Instead of moving forward himself to meet her, however, Jon wrapped his arm around her waist, and urged her to wrap her legs around him as he lifted her.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a breathy sigh, as she raised her heavy eyes to look into his.

“I want to hold you,” He groaned, as he lowered them to the floor, with his back resting against the cabinet and her astride him, “It’s been years since I’ve been able to hold you.”

Dany could have cried at his sweet words. Dany, however, could not cry, and so she clung to him. Panting, she felt the first touch of his tender invasion as they came together, making them one. They rolled their hips in tandem, as Jon kept his arms around her, and Dany tightened her legs around his waist. Leaning his head down, he latched his mouth over one of her clothed nipples and sucked firmly, causing her to cry out. She was shaking. She was overwhelmed. She felt vulnerable. She felt loved. She wanted to finish and yet she never wanted this moment to end. Dany whimpered against him, at the jumble of emotions running through her mind. Urging his head away from her breast, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Jon tangled his hand in her hair to cup the back of her head, cradling her to where her forehead was pressed to his shoulder.

“I dreamed of you so often during the war,” He murmured through harsh breaths against her hair. Dany whimpered again, as the push and pull of their bodies grew stronger. Though she kept her forehead pressed to his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut, as she tried to breath, Dany reached up and touched his cheek.

“Don’t…oh… don’t think about the war…mmm…right now,” She whispered, “Just you and me…” Dany whimpered once more, before adding, “You are holding me…oh, god…” she whined softly, feeling pressure building inside her again and then he put a grounding hand on her lower back. “You are with me…you are home,” She finally said. Dany felt tremors run through his body and knew he was close. She rolled her hips a little more firmly and gasped sharply as her own release caught her off guard. Jon caught her around the waist, and she trembled and moaned with the powerful sensations washing over her body. Suddenly, he flipped them, tenderly laying her on her back, before he thrust forward, firmly and deeply, finding his own end before collapsing atop her, still inside her.

They lay in silence for a few moments, Dany stroking his back, and Jon nuzzling soft kisses against her neck. Dany did not know if it was an old wives’ tale or not, as she really knew very little about bringing babies into the world, but she had heard once in hushed whispers that keeping one’s legs elevated after intimacies could help in conceiving, and so she kept her legs wrapped around his waist. He did not seem to mind, and so they lay there wrapped up in each other.

“Do you think I’ll be a good mother?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and now she could not retract it. Jon lifted himself on shaky elbows and looked down at her. He kissed her forehead, then smoothed back some of her sweaty hair.

“I do,” he said it so confidently that she had to smile. Dany reached up and touched his bearded cheek. He then stroked her cheek with his thumb, before his brow furrowed, “Are you worried about that?”

Dany looked away from him, “I don’t know.”

Dany released a soft huff of breath as Jon rolled onto his back beside her. He carefully covered her intimate parts with her skirt, and re-buttoned his pants, before lacing their fingers together and staring up at the kitchen ceiling. Dany was thankful that his eyes were no longer boring into her.

“If you are worried,” Jon suddenly said, “About… about anything… you can tell me. You know that right?”

“I know,” Dany whispered, a slight quaver to her voice that she hoped Jon did not notice. Of course, she knew she could tell him, she had never feared telling him her worries in the past, why should it be any different now? But she was different now… and so was he… and they both knew it. Dany turned her face to the side, away from him.

“I’m glad I scrubbed this floor yesterday,” Dany said, changing the subject and trying to sound jovial. Jon chuckled.

“I hope you haven’t scrubbed that countertop recently,” he commented, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “Because it will most certainly need to be scrubbed again.”

Dany laughed, and started to sit up. Jon stood up and offered her his hand to pull her up off the ground. Dany stumbled as she stood, her legs still feeling a bit wobbly. Jon caught her by the elbows and their eyes met. He smiled fondly at her and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Dany could only smile back.

* * *

At midnight Dany woke to the sound of a sheep bleating loudly from the barn. Earlier that day, Davos had concurred with Jon’s assessment that their ewe would lamb soon, and when Jon had gone out to close up the barn after supper, the ewe was certainly ready. Davos had remained to help. Dany had eventually gone to bed, but now she crept quietly out to the barn with her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. There were gas lanterns lighting the barn and Jon and Davos both were in the pen with the birthing ewe. The lamb was almost out but the ewe seemed to be struggling, and so Dany, not wanting to disturb the men who were assisting, quietly slipped into the pen, and sat down in the hay. Jon glanced over at her and gave her soft smile that she returned. Having grown up both wealthy and in the city, Dany had never had the opportunity to see anything be born, and even the one time she had been near a woman giving birth in France, the terse, traditional old nursing matrons had banished the young women from the room, claiming it was not a proper thing for them to see at so tender an age. Dany did wonder at the time and still did, if they thought all the blood, and bowels, and broken bodies of soldiers were proper things to see for their tender eyes. No one had seemed concerned about shielding her innocence when it came to death and war.

When the lamb was finally delivered, Jon deposited it practically in her lap.

“Dry him off really well, and keep him warm,” Jon instructed seriously as he went back to the ewe. Apparently, there were some complications, from what Dany was gleaning from the men’s quiet but serious discussions. Dany obeyed quietly, rubbing the wobbly-legged lamb down with the towels that Jon provided her with.

“It’s okay,” She crooned at the lamb who was bleating for its mother. Dany felt rather helpless, as she tried to keep the little lamb warm in a blanket.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it,” Davos said to Jon, as the ewe collapsed in the hay. Dany gnawed on her lower lip, not sure what to do or how to help.

“Is there a vet to call?” Dany asked, thinking she could run up to the big house and use the telephone.

“There is not a vet anywhere nearby that would make it in time,” Davos explained, “I’m sorry, sometimes these things happen.”

“Dany,” Jon said softly, raking a hand through his hair, “Take the lamb inside the house, and get him warm.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” Dany asked, feeling ignorant.

“No, love,” Jon touched her cheek, “Just wrap him up and keep him warm.”

“Will he be alright?” Dany asked, looking at the little lamb in her arms.

“He’s weak, but we will do what we can,” Jon said and kissed her cheek before urging her to go inside. Dany nodded, and did as told. Inside the cottage, she stoked the fire in the fireplace, and sat down in front of it with the lamb in her lap, wrapped up in a blanket. Ghost got up from his bed, and the pup curled up beside her. She supposed all they could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Dany and Jon struggle to keep their lamb alive


	13. Wolves and Lambs Pt1 (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter for some reason was incredibly difficult to write. I hope it turned out alright, and that it is not disappointing. 
> 
> Thanks everyone so much for your lovely comments, they help me stay motivated!

Jon’s head rested in her lap, as they sat together on the floor in front of the fire. They had been up most of the night caring for the lamb, and Jon had just drifted off to sleep with Ghost curled up beside him. The lamb was wrapped in blankets on the other side of Dany, being ominously quiet. Before he left last night, Davos had sent up word to the big house that some replacement colostrum should be sent to them for their orphaned lamb. Dany ran her fingers through Jon’s dark curls lost in thought as she studied the dwindling flames of their hearth. Glancing over, she checked to ensure the lamb was still breathing, just as she heard a faint knock on the door. After a moment of hesitation, the door opened, and Sansa entered quietly.

“I brought the replacement milk for the lamb,” Sansa said.

“Thank you,” Dany said softly, as she tried to move Jon’s head.

“Do you know how to feed a lamb?” Sansa asked. The words were said gently, but Dany still felt the sting of her own ignorance.

“I’ll make the first bottle,” Sansa said, before Dany could get up off the floor, “Then once his belly is full, I’ll show you how to do it if Jon is still sleeping.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Dany said. Sansa merely nodded and went to their kitchen to work.

Dany went back to toying with Jon’s hair, and stroking his bearded cheek, until Sansa returned to the main room with the bottle. Very carefully, Dany lifted Jon’s head from her lap and placed a pillow beneath it. Lovingly, Dany touched Jon’s cheek once more, and she felt Sansa’s eyes on her.

“You love him?” Sansa suddenly asked, the straightforwardness of the question taking Dany off guard.

“Yes, of course, I do,” Dany said, and smiled, “Have you ever been in love?”

Sansa was silent in the face of this inquiry, and merely handed Dany the bottle.

“Love is just a story that they tell little girls at bedtime, to make them amenable to marriage,” Sansa said coldly, as she showed Dany how to feed the lamb. Dany tried not to take her statement as a slight.

“No one told me any bedtime stories,” Dany said, softly, thinking of her lonely childhood, “And during the war, sometimes thoughts of Jon were the only thing that kept me going.”

Sansa sniffed but said nothing in response. Dany was holding the bottle and feeding the weak, little lamb who had yet to stand on his own, while Sansa sat in the rocking chair studying her. 

“Were you glad you got to go to the war?” Sansa questioned. Dany thought for a moment.

“I don’t know that I was glad to go,” She finally responded, “But the month or two after Jon left I was out of my head with worry, and trying to find something useful to do, that finally the only thing to do was to go myself.”

Sansa sniffed again, and Dany, not for the first time since meeting her, wondered what was going on inside the young woman’s head. Jon started to stir, and Dany looked over at him, concerned that he was having another nightmare. Wanting to shield him from any rumors that could travel back up to the big house with Sansa, Dany handed the bottle to Sansa and went to wake him up.

“Jon?” Dany stroked his cheek, “Jon?”

He grabbed her wrist for a moment, startling her, but as soon as his eyes opened, he released her.

“Dany,” Jon said softly, his eyes were so sad as he sat up, “How’s the lamb?”

“Weak,” said Sansa softly, as she stroked the lamb’s side.

“He’s too small,” Jon said, running his hand across his face.

“What do you mean _too small_?”

“Most lambs don’t survive if they are under 4 kilograms,” Jon explained.

“If he eats well, we can bulk him up, though, right?” Dany asked.

Jon and Sansa exchanged a look.

“He’s eating,” Dany pointed out. Jon leaned over and kissed her temple, and for some reason she did not want his affection right now.

“I would not get too attached, love,” He said softly, as he stroked the lamb’s side. Ghost seeming to sense that something was wrong and climbed into Dany’s lap, and nudged her hand.

“I don’t understand why we are giving up on him?” Dany asked, trying not to sound like a petulant child but fearing that she did anyway.

“We are not giving up on him,” Jon said, firmly. Dany felt a strange constriction around her heart, “It’s just rare that lambs survive like this without their mothers especially if they are sickly and underweight.”

“He’s eating,” Dany insisted, feeling an odd helplessness that she had not felt since the first few months that she had been learning nursing during the war.

“Dany, it’s not a good sign that we have not been able to get him to stand up on his own,” Jon said sadly as he stroked the lamb’s head.

“Why are you being so negative?” Dany snapped. Swiftly, Jon stood, and Ghost scrambled up. Gently taking her hand, he urged her up off the floor and toward the door.

“Can you give us a moment, Sans?” Jon asked, calmly. Sansa nodded, and continued to tend to the lamb.

Dany followed Jon out their front door. In their front yard, Jon stood in front of her, his dark grey eyes boring into her so intensely that she had to look away. Jon tipped her chin with his fingers, wanting her to look at him, but she could not bring her eyes to his.

“Dany, what is this about?” Jon asked.

“It’s about our baby lamb,” Dany said simply, not sure what he was getting at.

“Is it?” Jon countered, putting a hand on her arm.

“Of course, it is,” Dany jerked her arm away, “I don’t understand why you are so resigned to him dying.”

“I’m not resigned,” Jon insisted, “I just know the way of things on a sheep farm, I grew up here, I know that sometimes things like this happen.”

Dany felt anger simmering beneath her hard exterior, “And I’m just the ignorant city girl, who just has to learn to deal with it?”

“That is not what I said,” Jon retorted sharply, “And that is not what I meant, don’t put words in my mouth.”

“If you think me so incapable, why did you bring me here?” Dany lashed out and knew that was a low blow and she regretted the words as soon as she saw Jon’s face fall from anger to grief.

“Do you think I wanted to drag you away from everything you know, everything you are familiar with, so soon after returning from France?” Jon snapped, “Do you think I wanted to become everything your father warned you about when we decided to marry?”

“Now you are making this about something else entirely!” Dany shouted.

“I’m still not entirely sure what it was about to begin with!” Jon shouted right back.

“It’s about keeping our lamb alive!”

“Well, I think it’s about the war,” Jon said firmly, and Dany recoiled from him.

“This has absolutely nothing to do with the war!”

“Well then, how would I know?” Jon raked his hand through his hair, “You keep yourself so buttoned up about it, if you won’t tell me, how will I ever know?”

“I’m buttoned up about it?” Dany lashed out, “You have had nightmares almost every night we have spent in that bed together, and then you wake up and pretend like nothing happened!”

Jon frowned, “I don’t pretend any more than you do!”

Dany whirled away from him, not entirely sure where she intended to go to escape him but started to march off down the road. Jon followed.

“You used to talk to me, to tell me things,” Jon said, the anger in his voice softening.

“That was a long time ago,” Dany said still stomping away from him, though she winced at her own words. She had not meant them the way they had come out of her mouth.

“Have you lost all your faith in me?” Jon asked. _No_, she wanted to reassure him, but another part of her held back, feeling like she needed to protect herself. Dany continued to march down the road.

“Where are you going?” He demanded, walking swiftly beside her.

“For a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes, Jon, a walk,” Dany said, still refusing to look at him.

“I have sheep to tend,” Jon snapped, hearing his own defensive anger resurfacing.

“Well go tend your sheep.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

* * *

Dany did not know how far she walked, or really to where she was walking. She wanted to scream and rage at Jon, but she did not really know why. She wanted to cry but found, as she often did these days, that she had no tears to cry, and so she marched down the road, angry at Jon… and angry at herself. When she reached the main road, she recognized the gate to the Tully’s land, where she had met Roslin last week. She saw Gilly and an elderly man, getting out of a car to walk in.

“Hello, Dany!” Gilly called out.

“Hello,” Dany said, as she drew up beside them, and tried to mask the emotions in her voice. The elderly man looked at Dany and she could perceive that he was blind, or nearly so.

“Ah, so this is the young wife of Jon Snow?” He said with a smile.

“Yes,” Dany shook his hand.

“Dr. Aemon,” The old man introduced himself, “He’s a good lad, your husband.”

Dany smiled sadly, “He is.”

“Though I’m sure he is a man now,” Dr. Aemon chuckled, “I suppose when you get to be my age, everyone is a lad or a lass.”

“What brings you down from your house so early?” Gilly asked.

“Just taking a walk,” Dany said. Aemon’s seemingly sightless eyes, studied Dany, and somehow, she felt like he could see right through her.

“Have you met Roslin Tully yet?” Gilly asked.

“I have yes, she and I had a walk together just last week,” Dany responded.

“Would you like to go see her with us?” Gilly invited, “I have to give her an exam first, but she loves company.”

“Alright,” Dany said softly, and the three of them walked toward the Tully house.

“Gilly has been a great help to me since she and Sam returned,” Aemon said making Gilly grin, “We need another doctor here, but at least in the meantime, I have her reliable mind and hands to handle the new babies soon to arrive in town.”

“Roslin’s will be the first since the war ended, I think,” Gilly said. Dany smiled sadly. _Roslin’s baby would also be without its father, _Dany thought ruefully, the war continued to steal from people even after it was over.

Roslin greeted them at the door, looking so heavily pregnant that Dany was surprised she was still on her feet.

“Dany!” She exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you again!”

To Dany’s surprise, Roslin hugged her. She invited them all in and set them down to tea, before she and Gilly disappeared upstairs for Roslin’s exam.

“Tell me, Mrs. Snow, how do you find Wintertown?” Dr. Aemon asked her.

“I have not been here very long,” Dany said, looking down into her teacup, “But I have enjoyed it.”

“It certainly does not have the thrills of the city,” Aemon said, “But it has a peace about it, that suites me,” Aemon looked at her, and Dany could not determine if he could actually see her or not, “It is a good place, I think, to raise a young family.”

“Did you raise a family here?” Dany asked curiously, but also not wishing to give away the current troubled state of her own little family.

“No, no,” His voice was distant, in another time perhaps, “I had a sweetheart once… many, many years ago.”

“What happened?”

“She left the mountain, and never returned,” Dr. Aemon said straightforwardly, “And I swore to never love again.”

Dany smiled sadly, thinking of her words to Sansa only this morning. Love was not made up for the stories, and yet it was not what the stories made it out to be.

“God has fashioned us for love, but I think most people are scared to love and be loved for the pain it inevitably brings, which was certainly the case for me,” Aemon said with the nostalgia and longing that only old age can bring.

Dany was not sure she believed in God, or any gods, but she felt like Aemon was seeing into her soul, “Why do so many people bother with it then?” Dany asked, somewhat cynically. _If love only led to pain, then why love?_

“Not all pain is bad pain,” Dr. Aemon said, his sightless eyes miles away from her, “After the pains of birth you have a newborn babe in your arms, and just as there is pain upon the loss of a loved one, are not both of these pains love made evident?” Aemon touched her hand, “To love is to be vulnerable; it is giving another human being the power to break us and trusting them not too…and oh…I know that that trust can be painful too.”

_Have you lost all your faith in me?_ Jon’s words came back to haunt her. When Dany was silent, Aemon looked over at her, making her once again feel as though he could see through her.

“Just this morning, Gilly told me that you and Jon both served during the war,” Aemon stated.

“Yes,” Dany said softly.

“I’m sure you have both seen terrible things,” Aemon said, “I still had my whole sight during the Great War, and doctored soldiers in the trenches in France.”

_France_, Dany could have cringed.

“At times I still dream of it,” Aemon said, sadly. Dany took a deep breath and said what she could not say to Jon earlier.

“So do I.”

“Some will lessen, some will not,” Aemon said, “But you and Jon have each other... to love each other through it.”

Dany nodded, feeling somewhat ashamed for storming off from Jon this morning, “Yes, we do.”

After Gilly completed her exam with Roslin, and they discussed a few details with Dr. Aemon, the four of them visited for well over an hour, after which Dany felt her heart lighten. Gilly and Aemon dropped her home in the car, and she took a deep breath as she headed toward the cottage. Thankfully, Sansa was gone. She opened the door quietly and saw Jon sitting in front of the hearth, feeding the lamb. Dany’s heart clenched. Ghost bounded up to her, causing Jon to look up. Their eyes met, and neither of them smiled. His eyes were a bit cold and distant, which made her stomach sink. Instead of choosing to remain angry, however, Dany, without saying word, walked over to him, put her hands on his cheeks, bent over and kissed him. He kissed her back softly, and they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, before smoothing a curl away from his dear face, “I’ll make you some lunch.”

Dany straightened, and strode into the kitchen before he could say respond.

* * *

Come sunset, the lamb was still alive, and Dany had managed to give him a few more bottles, and she hoped beyond hope that she was increasing the chances of his survival. She had not seen Jon since their quiet, tense lunch, and wondered if he was avoiding coming back inside. The thought made her sad, but that would not deter her from the plans she had for the night, though such plans made her tremble. Bundling Ghost and the little lamb together, in front of the hearth and under blankets, Dany went to their bedroom and shut the door. After donning her nightgown, Dany unbraided her long hair, letting it drape down her back in a cascade as she brushed it out. When she heard the front door open and close, she listened as Jon’s heavy footsteps walked around the main room, likely checking on Ghost and the lamb, and perhaps pulling leftovers from lunch from their icebox to eat. Dany rose and sat down on the foot of their bed and waited for him, she had not eaten, her stomach in knots. Finally, she heard his footsteps coming toward the bedroom, and she shifted on the bed. He knocked, and she frowned. He never knocked.

“Come in,” She squeaked. The door opened, and he looked at her, the warmth of love still in his eyes, even though their day had been so cold. They stared at each other, and Dany took a deep breath. _Where to begin?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Dany and Jon work on vulnerability, after which things get... intimate...


	14. Wolves and Lambs Pt2 (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this chapter discusses some intense things that could be triggering, including an assault and then also typical war violence. It does not go into explicit details, but I just wanted to warn up front just in case so no one is taken off guard. 
> 
> This chapter picks up immediately where the last one left off. I hope everyone enjoys! 
> 
> Thanks so much for your comments, I enjoy reading them so much!

Jon closed the bedroom door behind him, and Dany shifted nervously where she sat on the foot of their bed. She took a deep breath trying to steel her resolve. He watched her with those dark grey eyes of his, looking at her like she was a wounded animal that might lash out at him if he got too close. Perhaps she was… perhaps they both were. Jon was the first to look away as he pulled off his shirt and trousers and readied himself for bed. Dany watched him, gnawing on her lower lip. Finally, after what felt like an eternity he sat down at the foot of his side of the bed. They had their backs to each other.

“Am I welcome here?” He asked. She felt an irrational surge of irritation wanting to snap at him, and tell him not to sulk, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he looked so defeated that she bit her tongue. Moving slowly, Dany crawled across the bed to him, and put her arms around his neck, hugging him, his back to her chest, until she felt him sigh and the tension in his shoulders began to leave him. He started to stroke her arm.

“I’m sorry for the things I said this morning and for storming off like a child,” Dany whispered and kissed into his hair. Jon continued to stroke her arm.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” He said. Dany shifted, and with a hand to his shoulder urged him to turn around and face her. He did and offered her that sweet half smile of his.

Slowly, Dany took his hand and put it on the neckline of her nightgown… where her scar was. He ran his thumb gently across the scar, and he looked into her eyes, questioningly.

“It… it… happened during a bombing,” She tucked some hair behind her ear.

“Shrapnel?” Jon asked, his tone even and logical. Dany shook her head. His eyes studied the scar, and she had the urge to cover it up, even though she knew it was irrational as he had already seen it before.

“A knife,” She further explained, trying to bolster her courage.

“How?” Jon questioned, his eyes full of compassion, as he continued to stroke his thumb over the scar.

“A soldier attacked me during the chaos of the bombing.”

Jon scowled, “A German?”

Taking a deep breath, Dany shook her head, “English… he… he had ill-intent,” Dany tried to explain, not wanting to say the horrible words aloud. Jon put his arms around her pulling her close, holding her… loving her. He was shaking probably from rage that anyone should dare touch her in such a way. Then suddenly he pulled back, his hands coming up to frame her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as he looked into her eyes. He had tears glistening in his eyes. Dany wished that she could cry, but she could not.

“Did he…?” Jon started to ask, his eyes so serious, but not seeming able to say the horrible words either.

Dany covered his hand with her own, “No,” she whispered, feeling that vulnerability that Aemon had spoken of earlier that day, “He got the knife in me pretty deeply, but he was stopped before he was able to do anything else.”

“Stopped?”

“A German soldier shot him,” Dany said. Dany felt her own body trembling, “I don’t really understand it, not even to this day… the German… he could have gotten away, could have escaped, but he didn’t… then he was caught because he stopped and helped me.”

Jon kissed her forehead.

“There was so much hate… you know? Around the camps and hospitals,” Dany said, softly, “So much hate… some of the nurses I worked with would not even tend to enemy wounded, and even though I’m ashamed of it, sometimes I felt that hate too, but then this German soldier sacrificed himself to save me… and I was just confused,” Dany looked into his eyes, “Then I wondered if perhaps we were all just human beings after all, caught up in hate and caught up in the plans of evil men.”

Jon pondered her words, as his thumb went back to stroking her scar. Dany shifted, nervously, once again uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Is it…” Dany stammered out, trying to offer him her honest insecurities that she had once shared with him so freely, “Is it horribly unsightly?”

Leaning forward, Jon kissed the scar, and she threaded her fingers through his hair.

“Nothing about you is unsightly,” Jon breathed out against her skin, causing her to shiver. She did not realize how badly she needed to hear those words from him. Dany stroked his hair. _Love was trusting someone not to break you, _she recalled Aemon’s words, and took a deep breath. Reaching out with tentative fingers, she touched the scar above his heart. She had known he had been wounded, but his letter had been vague. Dany looked into his eyes.

“What are your nightmares about?” She asked softly. Jon took a deep breath.

“The beach… almost always the beach,” He said so softly, Dany almost did not hear him.

“Normandy?” Dany clarified, though she knew. He nodded.

“My…um… one of my best mates,” Jon choked on his words, “One of my best mates… Grenn, his name was… died there… in front of my eyes.”

_How similar their experiences were_, Dany thought as her heart felt tight. She had other stories to tell him, horrible ones, that she did not know if she was ready to share. She felt a need for tears, but none would come. Her lack of emotions, not for the first time, alarmed her. Dany placed a soft kiss on his mouth. _To love is to be vulnerable_, Aemon had said, and so Dany lay back on the bed, looking up at him. She took a steadying breath.

“I have other scars,” She whispered, glancing at the ceiling.

His eyes were so tender, “Where?”

Shaking, Dany took his hand and placed it over her heart, “Here.”

Jon looked as if he might cry.

“You can’t see these ones,” Dany’s voice trembled, “But they are there… and… and perhaps they are worse…”

“Aye,” He said gruffly, “I have those too.” Jon continued to look down at her, his gaze soft and tender, in contrast to the horrible things she knew had come about by his hand. _How many men had he killed? _She wondered, but she would never ask such a thing.

“There are other things,” Dany said, her voice high and strained, as she looked at the ceiling again, thinking of sweet Missandei, “Things I don’t think I can say aloud yet…”

“There’s time enough, you don’t have to say it all tonight,” Jon assured her, his hand drifting to rest on her stomach, “Just as I could not say it all tonight.”

Dany lay there, looking into his kind, honest eyes, and could still feel her body shaking, vulnerable, trusting him not to break her, and Aemon was right… that was painful too.

“Sometimes… sometimes, I think it…” She stammered, “It damaged me, Jon,” The words finally tumbled out, “I’m not the same way I was before.”

Jon laid down beside her, smoothing back some of her hair, before placing a tender kiss to her forehead, “I’m not the same either, love.”

Still, she could not produce tears, even though her next words felt even more startlingly raw, “I want to be the same girl you married.”

Jon smiled tenderly at her, and kissed her mouth this time, “And I want to be the same boy.”

Dany felt like her heart was breaking.

“But we’re not,” Jon finished, “And that’s alright.”

“Is it?” She asked softly.

“It is,” Jon said soothingly, “People change, people grow… perhaps we were forced to grow up a bit faster than we would have liked, but we were so young then.”

“I feel old now,” Dany admitted.

“So, do I,” He confessed with a grin. Dany smiled at him and tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

“You do have some grey around your ears,” She said teasingly.

“Aye, is it bad?” He asked with a smile, as he wrapped his arm around her waist, and drew her closer.

“I think it looks quite distinguished,” She said, and he laughed.

“That’s very generous of you,” He chuckled, and gave her another sweet kiss, before getting up to douse the lights.

He got back in bed beside her and started to get comfortable as they were quiet in the dark. Dany still stared at the ceiling. She reached over to him and clasped his hand, pulling his arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek. Biting her lip, this too was part of her plan, Dany took his hand and bunched it with her own hands in the fabric of her nightgown, urging him to pull it up. Jon needed no further prompting. Jon pulled the nightgown up over her breasts so swiftly, she gasped in surprise, but chuckled as she helped him pull it over her head. Once she was completely bare, Jon slipped one of his arms around her shoulders, and held her as he kissed her. Dany gave his curls a gentle tug, deepening the kiss. He held her close, and Dany felt all his love for her poured into that kiss, and she loved him… so very much. Slowly, Jon eased her underneath him. Heart hammering in her chest, she spread her legs to make a space for him. He still had his undergarment on, but when he tucked his body tight against her core, and held there, she gasped so sharply she had to break their kiss, feeling the outline of him hitting exactly where she wanted him. Dany put both her hands on in his sides and stroked up and down. As he continued to press down between her legs, Jon leaned his head down, and captured one of her uncovered breasts in his mouth. She whimpered as he began to suck, and kiss, and suck some more, melting her inside.

“You have such beautiful breasts,” He whispered hoarsely, and Dany felt her cheeks heat as she brought her hand up to stroke his hair as he continued his attentions. They did not often talk in bed, but occasionally Jon would let slip some of his amorous thoughts which never failed to make her both smile and blush. After a particularly firm suck, a cry escaped Dany’s mouth and her back arched into him. She felt him smile against her, but he tapered off. He leaned up and took her mouth again. As she kissed him, she felt one of his hands drift lower, and nestle itself against the cheek of her bottom, before giving it a little squeeze.

“You also have a beautiful arse,” He chuckled, between kisses. Dany playfully smacked his shoulder for such language but was silenced when he gave her arse another little squeeze. Moaning softly, Dany drew her knees up and back, as far she could get them, and planted her feet on the mattress. Her heart was pounding, and she began to pant as he started to press down on her again. Trying to control her ragged breathing, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, and buried her face against his shoulder.

“Too much?” He asked, gruffly.

“No, no,” Dany gasped out, vigorously shaking her head, “It feels good, you… you feel good…I…I…” She was not sure what she was trying to articulate as she clung to him, so instead of trying to speak, Dany reached her hands down and started to untie the laces of his underwear. He lifted off her a little bit to give her room to work, but as she unlaced him, he studied her with his wide dark eyes. When she had finished with the laces and helping him pull the garment over his hips so he could wriggle out them, they stared at each other. The intensity of his eyes made her want to look away. _To love is to be vulnerable_, Aemon’s words came back to her once more. Instead of looking away, she tried heeding Aemon’s words and tried to let the defenses she had built up around her heart for so many years fall. She locked her gaze with Jon’s. She felt vulnerable, but she felt safe. Jon leaned down and kissed her again, sweetly and tenderly, before lowering himself atop her. Moaning, as he pressed the full length of his body against her, Dany kissed him, wanting to pour all her love into her kisses just as he did. Her hips canted up almost of their own volition.

“Easy, love,” He crooned against her mouth, one of his hands coming to steady her hip. His touch was heartbreakingly gentle. Jon pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes sliding closed for a moment, as she felt him move and then he was entering her. Dany let out a breath she did not know she was holding, and Jon’s eyes fluttered open once more, and from what she could see in the dark he was smiling sweetly at her. Breathing heavy, she gave him a smile in return, and stroked his bearded cheek. He kept his forehead resting against hers as he rocked his body into hers, each of them releasing soft gasps, and an occasional moan with the movement. As Jon’s movements started to become a little more urgent, Dany clung to him, and she supposed it was a rather obvious thing to think, but as she felt the sweet vulnerability shared between the two of them in this moment, she knew that this too was love made evident. Dany kissed him passionately, crying out in pleasure, as he thrust deep and released. As they held onto each other in the aftermath, Jon whispering words of love into her ear, Dany wished, perhaps beyond hope, that she was not broken, that she could give him a baby borne from their love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to get the story a little further along in this chapter, but I really felt like this was the appropriate place to end it. More to come soon!
> 
> On a side note, in case anyone is interested, a lot of the way in which sex and intimacy is handled in this story, particularly the way in which Jon and Dany talk about it without actually talking about it, was sort of inspired by a history book from Cambridge University Press about sex before the sexual revolution, particularly in the time period of this story. It is heavily emphasized in that book that even the healthiest relationships were highly private about sexual matters, even with each other, and neither men nor women had an extensive vocabulary to express themselves in the bedroom, but that did not mean that they did not have satisfying love lives.


	15. Northern Lights Lead Home (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Computer is still broken, but I was able to extricate my half finished chapter from it and finished it this morning! Yay! I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for your comments they keep me motivated!

Jon scrambled eggs on their stove top, while occasionally peeking into the main room to check on Dany, who was feeding the lamb. Ghost, jealous for her attentions, kept trying to crawl into her lap and steal the bottle but she persevered. Taking the eggs off the stove, Jon set them on the table and brought the tea kettle over for their breakfast. He glanced into the main room again, and this time his heart clenched at the scene. Dany was trying to help the lamb stand on its own. He loved her all the more for her hope but feared how it might hurt her if the little creature did not survive. They had kept him alive for two nights now, and if they could get him walking and survive the day, his chances of survival would increase exponentially. Jon had less hope then Dany. He had seen this scenario play out many times growing up here on the Stark’s farm. When Jon finished putting a simple breakfast on the table, he strode into the main room, coming up behind Dany where she sat on the floor, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him and smiled fondly. 

“I think he’s getting stronger,” Dany said, as she settled the lamb back in Ghost’s bed and covered him up with a blanket. Ghost snuggled himself around the lamb, making Jon smile. 

“Ghost has apparently decided that he is his brother,” Jon chuckled, as he gave Dany his hand to help her up from the floor. 

“They are fond of each other,” Dany agreed, as she allowed herself to be led toward the kitchen. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” Jon asked significantly, as he pulled a chair out for her at the table and she sat down. Dany’s cheeks turned pink but she smiled at him as he sat down beside her. 

“A little sleepy,” She admitted, reaching for the tea kettle, “But quite well.” 

“Good,” Jon gave her elbow a squeeze. After they had made up the first-time last night, he had reached for her twice more throughout the night, feeling insatiable for her, and both times she had happily come into his arms, the last time she had even crawled atop him, instead of the other way around. Though in the early morning as he watched her sleeping, he had grown concerned that he had been too presumptuous, and hoped he had not put her off. He did not want her worried that he expected such things every night. 

“Thank you for making breakfast,” Dany said, her secret smile indicating that perhaps she too was thinking of their rather sleepless night. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. 

“Well, it was the least I could do,” Jon said, “After all, I am the one who kept you up most of the night.” 

Dany chuckled and sipped her tea with a twinkle in her eyes, before teasingly adding, “That’s certainly true.” 

Jon threw back his head and laughed. Reaching over, he cupped the back of her neck in his hand, pulling them together, and kissed her. She kissed him back, sweetly, bringing her little hands up to caress his cheeks. 

“You were a proper beast last night,” She whispered teasingly, as she gave his lower lip a little nip before resting her forehead against his. 

“With the way you kept calling my name,” Jon teased her right back as he kissed her softly, then resting his forehead against hers once again, “I figured you were enjoying yourself.” 

Dany smacked his arm, making Jon laugh, “You ought to keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak to your wife.” 

Jon nuzzled his nose against hers, and brushed his lips against her cheek, “And here I was beginning to think you liked my tongue.” 

Dany’s face turned so red at his words, that Jon relented with a chuckle, and placed a fond kiss on her forehead before returning to his meal. 

“What have you got planned for the day?” Jon asked, hoping he had not embarrassed her too much.

“Working in the garden for a bit, Sansa said the seeds need planting before the first frost, which I am sure is right around the corner this far north,” Dany replied, “And working with the lamb to help him walk.” 

Jon nodded. Dany got up, taking her empty plate, and as she walked by him, her free hand tangled in his hair for a moment, caressing his scalp. Jon leaned into her palm, like Ghost did when he needed a scratch, making Dany smile at him. 

“Give me your plate,” She commanded. Jon gave her his empty plate, though he was now bereft of her hand in his hair. 

“Would you care to come out to the barn today and help me with the chicken coop?” 

“I’d like that,” Dany smiled at him, and carried their dishes to the sink. 

* * *

Dany looked beautifully dishevelled, having obviously been busy in the garden beforehand when she finally made it out to the barn. Ghost was at her heels, and she had the lamb in her arms. Jon watched her from where he had laid out the lumber they had purchased. 

“How is he?” Jon asked. 

“Still not walking but he took the last bottle I gave him quite well,” Dany answered. The lamb bleated which brought a smile to Dany’s face, “He has also been a little more vocal.” 

“That’s a good sign, I think,” Jon said, “Do you want to settle him in the hay there?” Jon pointed to one of the empty pens. Dany placed the little lamb on a pile of blankets, making sure he was warm before joining Jon at the lumber. Wanting to touch her, Jon took her hand, and pulled her closer. 

“Jon, I’m meant to be helping you, not distracting you,” She chuckled, but came to him still. Jon tucked her against his side, with his arm around her, as he explained his plans for the coop. 

“Do you think we could raise enough chickens to sell fresh eggs?” Dany asked, “Roslin Tully told me yesterday that farmers on Saturdays come to town and sell things like fresh eggs and fresh vegetables,” Dany said, as they started to lay out the lumber for the coop. 

“Possibly, I guess it depends on how many hens we purchase,” Jon chuckled. He had always loved her enthusiasm, the way she gave herself fully to whatever she was engaged in. As much as her request had amused him, he was happy she was excited to raise chickens. It was one of his deepest wishes that she could be fulfilled here, Dany was so very smart and he knew she needed things to occupy her mind. 

As they began to hammer and saw away at their lumber, they stole glances at each other like love struck teenagers… like the love struck teenagers they had been when they wed. She had wanted to be a writer then, did she still carry those dreams in her heart? 

“Did… did you like nursing?” Jon asked curiously, hoping the question was not jarring. Their conversation last night about the war had been a balm, but Jon knew there was more left to be said. Dany looked up at him with her keen eyes. 

“I…I…” She searched for words then looked down at the ground for a moment, “It made me feel useful.” 

Jon nodded, “Did you write anything while you were away?"

Dany looked sad, “There was hardly time…” 

“You used to write beautiful things, sweet things, things that sounded like music when read aloud,” Jon recalled sadly. Face flushed, she turned her attention back to their work. 

“I don’t think such beautiful thoughts exist inside me anymore,” she nearly whispered. Jon did not know what to say to that, and so for a few moments they were silent lost to their own dark thoughts. 

“Would you ever like to nurse again?” Jon asked, not liking the direction of his own dark thoughts. Dany looked up at him, her eyes lightened and teasing.

“Jon Snow, are you trying to get rid of me, by sending me off to the workforce?” She chuckled. 

“What?” He gasped, “No… I mean not unless you want to go to work… that’s up to you…” He came around to her on the other side of the beginnings of their chicken coop, and put his hand on the small of her back to stop her working, “I’m just trying to know you again is all.” 

She smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around his middle, “Right now… all I want in this world,” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, “Is to be right here… in this barn… with you.” Dany laid her head against his chest, and he hugged her to himself. 

“And just so you know,” She whispered, her arms tightening around him a bit, “I have not lost my faith in you.” 

Jon brought his fingers to her chin, and tipped her head back, “Thank you, my love,” he whispered in return before kissing her soundly.  _ God, the way she kissed him, set his heart to racing. _ He kissed her deeper, his hand tangling in her hair, and his other drifting to the sweet curve of her bottom, pulling her flush to him. Her hands fisted in his shirt, and she whimpered softly. He knew she could feel him hard against her belly, and he wished he could take her back to bed. 

“We need to finish the chicken coop,” She whispered against his mouth, though she did not release her hold on him. 

“Aye,” He heard himself say, before reluctantly releasing her, “And the sheep need tending.” 

“And the boxes need unpacking,” Dany said. They chuckled together. Dany nipped at his lips once more, “Tonight,” She promised. 

“Aye, tonight.” 

* * *

_ Tonight  _ was delayed for a few hours. Rickon had interrupted their time in the barn with an invitation to the big house for dinner. Dr. Aemon would be there, as would one or two others from town, and Aunt Cat had wanted them to come be a part. Dany had been concerned about the lamb being left alone, but Jon assured her they had done what they could for the lamb, and now all the could do was wait and see if their efforts were in vain. Ghost would be there, and they could sleep together and keep each other warm by the hearth until their return from dinner. 

Jon sat beside Dany at dinner, while conversations swirled around them. Curiously, Jon noted that Sansa had a seat open next to her, and she kept glancing hopefully at the doorway. 

“Roslin Tully is near her time,” Dr. Aemon told Catelyn, Roslin’s sister-in-law, “Young Gilly believes the babe will come within the week.” 

“I will pay her a visit tomorrow,” Catelyn said, “I promised her I would be with her when time came for the birth, so that she was not alone.” 

Dr. Aemon nodded understandingly, “Speaking of babes, one of the young Frey children has injured himself on the farm equipment, it does not sound to be serious but I still wished to check in on him tomorrow morning.” 

Aemon looked in the direction of Dany.

“Will Gilly take you?” Ned asked. 

“I actually had thought to ask sweet Dany here if she might go with me seeing as she has nursing experience,” Aemon said, “That is if Jon can spare the extra hands?” 

Jon nearly choked, having never expected such a question to be directed at him. He looked at Dany, whose eyebrows were raised playfully at him, as if holding back to see what he might say. He wondered what was going inside that head of hers. 

“Um, that’s up to, Dany,” Jon finally said, “There is nothing pressing on the farm that needs two sets of hands at all times just yet.” 

Dany looked at Aemon, and Jon could see the wheels turning in her mind.  _ What was she thinking about?  _

“Yes, I would be happy to go with you, Dr. Aemon,” she finally said. 

“Good, it’s settled then,” Aemon said. 

The meal finished and for a moment Sansa looked stricken as she looked at the door once again. Jeyne’s eyes followed Sansa, and Jon had the suspicion that Jeyne knew something that no one else seemed to know. They retired to one of the main family rooms of the big house, where Rickon insisted that Dany play chess with him, and Sansa took her violin and began to play. The song was sad and slow, and made Jon feel homesick though he was home again. Jon joined Ned who was pouring a couple of glasses of scotch to follow their dinner, while Aemon and the other guests gathered to listen to Sansa play. 

“From the distillery in Oban?” Jon asked. 

“Aye,” Ned said, “They know what they are doing there.” 

Jon chuckled, and took the small glass Ned offered him. Jon turned to consider Sansa and the mournful song she played on her violin. 

“Sometimes I wonder if we will ever hear happy songs from that violin again,” Ned said softly to Jon, in a tone not meant for anyone else’s ears. Jon, unsure what to say, took another drink. 

“I thought you might like to know,” Ned started, sounding grave, “I’ve had some news today on Arya.” 

Jon whipped his head around to face Ned, “They’ve found her?” 

“No,” Ned shook his head, looking older than Jon ever remembered him too look, “But they were able to discover her last location.” 

“Where?” Jon swallowed hard, fearing that he already knew the answer by the look on Ned’s face. 

“Germany,” Ned said softly, “I’ve not told anyone else yet, I plan to tell Catelyn tonight, but…” Ned sighed deeply, “I’m afraid we may need to prepare ourselves for the worst.” 

Jon felt his throat constrict with emotion, and tried to compose himself, as the war kept on taking from them. He looked over at Jeyne, who was listening to Sansa play her sad song, with tears in her eyes. Sansa’s eyes were closed as she played, lost in whatever heartbreak consumed her… he knew she had many to choose from. Smiling, Dany looked at him from across the room, but her smile died when she saw his face. 

* * *

“Jon!” Dany gasped looking up at the sky, “It’s beautiful.” 

Jon looked up as well at the beautiful swirls of greens and blues of the Northern Lights, “Yes it certainly is.” Not often were the Lights so visible here, but in the darkness of the September night, and the unusual clarity of the sky made them particularly vibrant tonight as he and Dany walked hand in hand through the heather toward their cottage after dinner at the big house. Jon looked at Dany, and thought her eyes were so luminous tonight that they could have been stars in such a sky. He wondered if she would think him a besotted fool if he were to tell her such a thing.  _ I don’t think such beautiful thoughts exist inside me anymore, _ she had said earlier. After what Ned had told him tonight, he wondered if such beautiful thoughts existed in the world anymore. Jon wanted to give those beautiful thoughts, and sweet things back to her. Dany caught him watching her and smiled. 

“What are you staring at, Jon Snow?” Dany asked him. 

“You. Thinking about how your eyes are like stars,” Jon said. It did not come out his mouth quite like he imagined in his head, but she chuckled, and turned her face away, in the way she used to do when he would compliment her when he had first started taking her out all those years ago. It was adorable then, and it was even more precious now. 

“Have you been writing poetry, Jon?” She teased, and he grinned, pulling her close to him. 

“I think we both know that I’ll never be a poet,” He said, wrapping both his arms around her waist. 

“Perhaps not,” She pressed a kiss against his chest, “You have far better things to offer.” 

Jon kissed her then, deep and long, under the Northern Lights. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Dany visits the Frey's with Dr. Aemon and sees a darker side of the Highlands


	16. In Need of Mercy (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone so much for reading and for your comments! You keep me motivated!

The mists over the highlands rose with the morning sun, illuminating the purple heather across their pastures. Dany could hear the sheep starting to bleat in the barn awaiting Jon. Looking back toward the house, Dany wondered if he was awake yet. She should go start breakfast, but the sunrise had called her outside. Having grown up in the city, she had never known that the mountains could call to her in such a way. Thinking of Sansa’s mournful violin from last night while watching the sunrise over the mountains, Dany wanted the beauty to touch her heart as beauty often had when her heart had been young and tender. She pulled her shawl tighter around her delicate shoulders, and strode back toward the house, hoping to find Jon still abed, but knowing he was likely awake and dressed for the day. Opening the door of the cottage, Dany found Jon sitting in his chair giving the lamb his first bottle of the day.

“Morning, love,” He yawned as he spoke, making her smile. Dany came over to him and buried her hand in his soft hair, massaging his scalp, before kissing the top of his head.

“Good morning,” She whispered. The lamb looked up at Dany and bleated. Chuckling, Dany patted the little creature on the head. Another little creature at her feet beckoned for her attention. Leaning down, she scratched Ghost behind the ears. Jon put the lamb back down on the pile of blankets, and put his arm around Dany’s waist, where she stood beside him. Pulling her close, he pressed a kiss against her belly. Dany stroked his hair.

“How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Quite well,” Pressing another kiss to the top of his head, she added, “And without interruption.”

Jon chuckled, and kissed her belly once more, “Were you disappointed by that?”

“Aye,” she whispered, trying her best to sound Scottish and continuing to stroke his hair. Jon’s shoulders shook in silent laughter as he clung to her waist. Moving slowly, Dany put her knee on his chair, pulling her night gown up as she straddled him and sat down in his lap. His hands gripped her hips. Leaning his head up, he caught her lips, and his mouth, never demanding and never cruel, gently but firmly coaxed her to him, wooing her. Dany melted into his kisses, tangling her hands into his hair, and pressed her breasts against his chest. Even before the war, he had always seemed rather taken with her breasts… it seemed like such a long time ago, and yet like only yesterday.

“Jon,” She whispered, and was surprised by how breathy her voice sounded.

“Yes?” He mumbled against her mouth, one of his hands sinking into her hair.

Dany rocked her hips down against his, causing him to groan, “I love you.”

He smiled at her, “I love you too.”

Dany wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. There had been times during the war when she had forgotten how safe she had felt in his arms. Jon stroked her back. For a little while, they simply held each other, and Dany wondered if this is what Aemon meant when he said that they had each other now, to love each other through it.

“What were you and Ned talking about last night?” Dany asked after a bit of silence. She still rested in his lap with her head on his shoulder, “You seemed troubled.”

“He’s had word that Arya was last known to be in Germany,” Jon said with a deep sigh. Dany sat up and looked into his eyes.

“What?”

“No one seems to know what she was doing there or where she was exactly,” Jon said, “All they know is that she was last known to be in Germany.”

All the horrible things that Dany could imagine happening to a young woman in a war-torn country flashed through her mind, and her heart pounded.

“I’m worried that she’s… she’s…” Jon could not say make the words come to his mouth. Dany put a hand on his bearded cheek.

“She’ll be alright,” Dany said firmly, though she did not know if she actually believed her own reassurances. She had seen to much injustice, and to much unfairness to hold out much hope… they both had.

“I just want the war to be over,” Jon said so brokenly, that all Dany could do was lay her head back on his shoulder and hold him.

* * *

“He’s a beautiful little boy,” said Dany as she tousled Little Sam’s hair, as he sat on Dr. Aemon’s knee. Gilly smiled at her. She had walked down to town after cooking Jon breakfast, in order to go with Dr. Aemon to see his patient at the Frey’s.

“He takes after his Papa,” Gilly smiled at Big Sam, who blushed like a bashful teenager. Dany grinned.

“He’s not much younger than little Neddy, up at the big house,” Dany said. She had not yet had much opportunity to spend time with Neddy, but Jeyne invited her up to the big almost every time she had seen her. Dany felt a keen need for friendship here and had hoped that both Gilly and Jeyne and even Sansa could be those friends.

“Have you got any new books in?” Dany asked Sam who was sorting books on a cart.

“Nothing new,” said Sam, almost sadly, “I did pull this off the rack yesterday, thought you might enjoy it.” He handed her a book.

“Tales of a Scottish Grandfather,” Dany read the title aloud and smiled, “By Sir Walter Scott.”

“Walter Scott wrote Ivanhoe,” Sam explained. _Ivanhoe_, Dany was familiar with. “But this one, he wrote for his grandson, and its full of stories and folklore about Scotland, stories about William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, and the like.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Dany smiled at him and took the offered book.

“Reading will keep your mind sharp,” said Aemon, approvingly, “Though I don’t know if Walter Scott’s interpretations of history can be entirely trusted.” The three younger adults chuckled.

Gilly kissed Little Sam on the head and then took him from Aemon and handed him to his father. 

“Well, I’m off to check on Roslin,” said Gilly, “I’ll be back before supper unless her time is near.”

Sam blushed which Dany found endearing, considering he himself had witnessed the birth of his son and had another on the way.

“Send for me if you have need of anything, my dear,” Aemon said kindly, patting Gilly’s hand.

“I will, Dr. Aemon,” Gilly said and disappeared out the door.

“I’m afraid we too must leave you, Sam,” Aemon said to Samwell.

“Oh, I’ll be alright, me and Little Sam get on fine these days,” Sam patted Little Sam’s back, “Back when he was first born, though, I was not sure he liked me at all.”

Dany chuckled at that, before allowing Aemon to hold onto her arm as they went out to his car. He did not drive anymore but allowed those who helped him get to his patients to use his car. Dany had not driven in quite some time and hoped that she was not too out of practice. Shifting the car into gear it gave a lurch, and Aemon chuckled.

“Sorry,” Dany grimaced.

“I’m much too old to be concerned about dying in such a way,” Aemon’s nearly sightless eyes sparkled with mirth, “Though I’m afraid your young husband may have words with me if anything were to happen to you.”

Dany grinned, and tried again, and this time the car began to roll appropriately, “Well, I shall endeavor to drive well so that you may avoid an altercation with Mr. Snow.”

Aemon chuckled, pleasantly, and Dany smiled. She liked Aemon. Having been born later in her parents’ lives, Dany had missed the opportunity to know her own grandparents, and so found it refreshing to be around the age and wisdom of Dr. Aemon.

“Roslin Tully was a Frey, wasn’t she?” Dany asked Aemon as he miraculously directed her down the road. She seemed to recall that someone had told her that.

“Aye, she was before she married Edmure Tully,” Aemon confirmed, “She is the youngest of the ten children birthed by Mr. Frey’s second wife.”

“Ten?” Dany was taken aback. Aemon looked grave.

“Ten babes in less than fifteen years of marriage, I delivered them all, as it was before there was a midwife in these parts,” Aemon sighed deeply. Dany was not sure what to say to that, and so she asked no more questions. She thought of her own situation. While she certainly had no desire to have ten children, she knew she wanted children... and right now if she only had one, she could find it in herself to be content. Aemon was a doctor, and she knew he could probably advise her on her own health, but she could not bring the words to her mouth. 

The Frey homestead was large, but in disrepair. Dany could see it after they crossed the bridge onto Frey property. She remembered Tormund chuckling about how the Frey’s charged tourists a toll to cross the bridge and had thought he was jesting. At the bridge, however, was a man who appeared to be about forty, wearing a stained pair of trousers, with stringy hair and crooked, yellow teeth, who seemed to be on the lookout for tourists.

“Hosteen,” Aemon greeted.

“Dr. Aemon,” The man greeted curtly.

“We’re looking for little Walder, one of the girls came up to my cottage yesterday and said he hurt himself,” Aemon explained.

“I’d imagine he’s up at the house if he really is hurting,” Hosteen looked Dany up and down in a way that she did not appreciate.

“Thank you, Hosteen,” Dr. Aemon said, “Let’s go on up then, Mrs. Snow.”

Upon hearing _Mrs._ before her name, Hosteen looked rather disappointed and Dany cringed as she put the car in gear once again and puttered up the gravel road toward the dilapidated house.

In the garden adjacent to the house, worked three women who looked so tired that Dany wondered at their still being awake at their shovels. Dany parked the car and got out quickly to help Aemon and trying not to stare at the disarray in the yard. Two unattended toddlers fought over a toy on the front porch. Aemon did not seem to notice, or perhaps he had learned not too. A woman with blonde hair and hard eyes, opened the front door to them.

“Dr. Aemon,” She greeted, wiping her hands, “Is Walder expecting you?” 

“I do believe so, one of the girls came by my place yesterday and said that Little Walder had hurt himself,” Aemon explained, and turned to introduce Dany, “Genna Frey this is Daenerys Snow.”

“Ah, so young Jon Snow is back from the city?” Genna said with a sort of disdain.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dany said, trying to be polite, but already taking a disliking to this woman and this place. Genna sniffed.

“Genna is wed to Emmon Frey, old Mr. Frey’s son,” Aemon said.

“And gave the ungrateful lout four children too,” Genna grumbled as she led them inside. Dany saw a few children, a couple with dirty faces and stained clothes, playing in a room. The house was tinged with an odor that Dany tried to ignore.

“Walder!” Genna yelled.

“Yes?” said a bright-eyed little boy who appeared from the kitchen.

“Not you, your grandfather,” Genna said gruffly, giving the little boy a little shove in the opposite direction, “Or the other Walder, whichever one of you needed a doctor.”

Dany and Aemon finally made it to the back of the house, where an old man, not quite so old as Aemon but nearly so, sat huddled and coughing under blankets.

“Walder,” Aemon greeted pleasantly as if nothing was amiss in the dimly lit room, that smelled of animal urine and soured food. Dany could hear dogs barking and babies crying in the distance.

“Aemon, what in the hell are you doing out here?” Walder barked.

“One of your granddaughters informed me that one of your grandsons needed tending,” Aemon said calmly, and Dany wondered at how he remained so in the face of such conditions.

“There isn’t anyone here who needs the attentions of a doctor,” Walder said, even as he erupted into a coughing fit.

“Dr. Aemon!” The sound of a young girl’s voice from the doorway. Dany turned to see a child who looked somewhat like Roslin Tully, enter the room.

“Walda was it you who called the doctor?” Walder snapped, angrily.

“I’m Della, grandfather,” The little girl said.

“I don’t care what your name is, was it you who called the doctor?”

The girl’s eyes were defiant, but she said nothing.

“Don’t be upset with Della, Walder,” Aemon said calmly, “She’s just worried about her young cousin, don’t you fret yourself, me and my nurse will stay out of your hair, we’ve just come to check on the boy.”

“As you will, but you will be charging his father, my good for nothing son, not me for your services mind you,” Walder grunted.

“I’m just checking in on the boy, Walder, you needn’t worry your mind about fees.”

Walder grunted again and returned to his newspaper. Della led them through a narrow hallway, toward the back porch. There they found a boy whose leg was wrapped in a soiled cloth. Dany frowned.

Della moved closer to Aemon and said in a low voice, “His father wouldn’t call for you sooner, Dr. Aemon, I reckon he would not have called for you at all.”

“It’s alright, Della, let’s take a look,” Aemon pulled out his back, “Dany what do you see?”

Little Walder looked up at Dany with wide eyes, “How can she doctor me? She’s a woman!”

“Oh, shut up Walder,” Della snapped, “Someone has to look at your leg, it doesn’t look natural.”

Dany removed the soiled, makeshift bandage and had to fight back a flash of war images that attacked her mind. She explained the wound to Aemon as best she could, and from her experience in the field, she could tell that if had they come any later there could have been an infection, there still could be.

“I think it needs stitching,” Dany said, in a choked voice. Aemon would need her to stitch the wound, that was likely why he had asked her to come. She could feel her hands shaking. _Could she stitch another wound?_

“Della, could you fetch Little Walder’s parents,” Aemon asked.

“His Papa’s out in the fields, but I think his mother is in the garden,” Della scurried off.

“Dany go on inside now and wash your hands up,” Aemon instructed her. Dany’s heart thundered in her chest, as she did as she was instructed. When she returned to the back-porch Della had returned with a gaunt woman, who looked frail and exhausted, and who was also heavily pregnant. Calmly, Dr. Aemon explained the need for stitches to her, and she looked hesitant until Aemon mentioned that his fee would be waived.

“Do what you need to, Doc,” she said, and gave Little Walder a smack on the side of the head, “Mind Dr. Aemon, and let him see to your leg.”

“It’s the woman that will be doing the doctoring!” Walder said vitriolically. Dany fought the urge to snap back at the child, but refrained, the child’s worldview was obviously colored by the environment in which he was raised.

“Mrs. Snow knows what she is doing,” Aemon assured them, “She nursed soldiers on the front lines during the war, she has plenty of experience.”

Dany went about doctoring Little Walder’s leg. To the child’s credit, he bore the pain of her cleaning the wound out well for one so young. Cleaning the wound, however, did not set Dany’s hands to shaking quite like threading a suture. She had not anticipated threading another suture so soon, or possibly ever again. Taking the suture to the gash in Little Walder’s leg, images of other gashes and other stitches, accompanied by screams of pain, assailed her mind, and she tried to breath, but the air at the Frey’s was stifling.

“You are doing just fine, Mrs. Snow,” Aemon’s encouraging voice broke through her consuming thoughts, and Dany persevered. Her heart was still pounding when she tied off the stitches and applied a bandaged.

“There now,” Aemon said, patting Little Walder’s shoulder, “You’re a brave, lad.”

Dany smiled at the boy, who only frowned at her in return.

“The wound will need to be kept clean,” Aemon said addressing Walder’s mother, but it was little Della who nodded in understanding. Dany began to gather the contents of Aemon’s medical bag that had been used.

“And how are you feeling?” Aemon asked Little Walder’s mother kindly, indicating her pregnant belly.

“I’m alright as rain, Doctor, I don’t need any tending,” she assured him, frowning, “After five children, I imagine this one will walk right out.”

“Well, should you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call on me,” Aemon said, and took Dany by the elbow, “Shall we go, Mrs. Snow?”

“Yes,” Dany said, and began to lead Aemon back toward their car. When she looked back over her shoulder, she saw Little Walder’s mother talking to Della, and cringed when she saw Della recoil from the older woman. Dany herself knew that look all to well.

* * *

The whole ride back to the library, Dany said nothing. Part of her had wanted to believe that all life in Wintertown was lived like the Starks, or the Tullys, or the Tarly’s, or even the burly Mormonts, like a storybook or a song. She had not been prepared for the squalor and sadness of the Frey’s. Dany thought she might vomit as she recalled the smell in the room occupied by old Mr. Frey. There were so many children, most seemed neglected and uncared for, and the very thought that a mother could let her child’s wound nearly fester without a second thought, haunted Dany. She understood now, why sweet Roslin Tully was so alone, despite having such a large family.

“Have you anything to say?” Aemon asked, significantly, seeming to know the direction of her thoughts.

“How…” Dany started, but then changed her mind, trying to keep the judgement from her voice, “Do all the Frey’s live there in that house?”

“No, some of them do, while others have their own homes on the land, but most of them work old Mr. Frey’s farm, though I’m afraid with as many mouths to feed as they have, they do not turn much of a profit.”

“There were so many children…” Dany said not sure what to say, though she felt a twinge of resentment as she remembered the two little toddlers completely unattended on the front porch of the Freys, and wondered at the fairness of how some people were given so many children, while others were given none. 

“Yes, that is one thing the Frey’s have in abundance,” Aemon said.

“How… how can people live that way?” she finally asked, though she feared her tone was harsh.

“Life on this mountain has never been easy, and there are those, like old Mr. Frey, who cling to the past, and to his superstitions, because it is the only comfort he can find here in this world,” Aemon explained, “The shadow of death does not lie solely on battlefields, sweet Dany, every aspect of human life has a dark side.”

Dany parked the car in front of the library and turned to face Aemon.

“These highlands can be healing, but there is death here too,” He continued, “The only thing we can do, as physicians, as human beings, is bring life and love and mercy to the places where we can.”

Dany was not entirely sure she understood, but she nodded anyway.

* * *

Mulling over Aemon’s words, Dany walked down the gravely road toward home. As she approached the Tully gate, she saw the Starks car sitting out front, and Sansa coming toward it.

“Good morning, Sansa,” Dany greeted, trying to sound cheerful, though she felt anything but.

“Good morning,” said Sansa dutifully, before asking, “Do you need a ride home?”

“Only if you are going that way,” Dany said, and Sansa nodded for her to get in the car, and Sansa turned the car toward Dany’s cottage.

“Roslin will likely have her baby today or tomorrow,” Sansa said, casually, “Or at least that’s what mother says.”

“Gilly told me much the same this morning,” Dany said, as she looked out the car window.

“Jeyne and mother are going to attend her,” Sansa said, “I’ve been banished to take care of Neddy.”

Dany smiled, “If you need anything, I’d be happy to help.”

Sansa nodded tersely.

“I’ve been up to the Frey’s this morning,” Dany said, trying to make conversation.

“I’m sure that was educational,” Sansa replied, sharply.

“I never thought I’d do any more stitching up wounds,” Dany commented, looking out the window once more. Sansa said nothing.

“You’re a talented violin player,” Dany offered trying to make conversation.

“Robb used to play the bagpipes, and we would play together,” Sansa said, her mouth in a hard line.

“That sounds lovely,” Dany smiled, but Sansa did not. Her eyes seemed a thousand miles away. “Jon told me that your father has had word on Arya,” Dany tried again.

“Barely, all they know is that she was in Germany,” Sansa said coldly.

“I know they are dealing with a lot of misplaced people right now…”

“I am aware of that…” Sansa snapped.

Dany looked back out the car window… she needed friends here, but she was beginning to doubt that Sansa would ever warm to her.


	17. Hauntings (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this chapter for a week, and capturing the right feelings and emotions for this chapter was quite difficult to write. Anyway, I hope it turned out all right and everyone enjoys. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for your comments!

Dany was scrubbing dishes furiously, when Jon opened the front door. She heard his heavy footsteps coming up behind her, and he placed a kind hand on the small of her back before leaning over and kissing her cheek.

“How was your day, love?” he asked, before pouring himself some tea that Dany had prepared for their evening.

“You know I went to the Frey’s today,” Dany said softly, her mind still heavy from what she had seen.

“Aye, I know,” He leaned against the cabinets and looked at her. Dany scraped a pan where she had burnt its contents and scolded herself. Poor Jon deserved better than a pampered city girl who knew absolutely nothing about keeping house and farming. Jon touched her elbow to still her frantic scrubbing. Dany dropped her sponge into the bucket of water she had placed in the sink to scrub her dishes. 

“And I’m not ignorant,” Dany started, “It’s not like I’ve never seen poverty,” She looked out the window thinking of children she had seen in France and even some in London, “And you know I’ve seen fathers who don’t care about their children,” Dany sighed, thinking of her own father.

“I know,” Jon said softly.

“It’s just everything is so beautiful and alive here,” Dany said, looking back at her dishes, “I guess I just wanted to believe we left all that behind in France.”

“I guess there are some things no amount of running can shield us from,” Jon said. He pulled her into his arms then and kissed the top of her head, “Not even running away to Scotland.”

Dany wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close.

“There were so many children there,” Dany whispered against his chest, “And the women… they looked so… worn out…” Dany held him tighter, “Well, so did the men honestly, but it was different.”

“The Frey’s live a hard life,” Jon said understandingly, “And it doesn’t help that old Mr. Frey does not set a proper example of how they all should treat each other, how they should take care of each other, its a cruel cycle I’m afraid.”

Dany nodded.

“Shall I pour you a cup of tea, love?” Jon asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice, trying to cheer her up. Dany chuckled.

“Yes.”

While they drank their tea, Jon sat in his chair reading a newspaper, and Dany sat on the floor finishing up feeding the lamb. 

“I’m thinking that we need to make a trip to Inverness, before a real frost comes,” Jon said, as he glanced over the newspaper, "I thought we might make a day of it, and visit Urquhart Castle up at Loch Ness on the way."

“Alright,” Dany said with a smile, as she scratched the lamb behind the ears and smiled.

“We can open a savings account at the bank in Inverness, and purchase a few chickens,” Jon continued. A thought occurred to Dany, but she was hesitant to voice it to Jon, but once again reminding herself that this was her husband, who loved her, she plucked up her courage.

“Is there a hospital in Inverness?” Dany asked. She had thought to ask Aemon or Gilly to examine her but had not been able to bring herself to ask them. They were becoming her friends and she did not know if she wanted them to have to be her physicians as well.

Jon looked up at her, concern on his face, “There is not a hospital, but there is a clinic, why? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Dany assured him, as she put the bottle to the side, and started her routine of trying to get the lamb to stand on his own. Jon just looked confused and so she took a breath and continued, “I know… I know we’ve never talked about it… but I’m worried…”

“Worried?” Jon urged after she paused.

“I’ve never conceived, Jon,” She said softly, her voice breaking, “I’m worried that there is something wrong... inside me.”

“Dany-love, we haven’t been trying that long, even before the war,” Jon said, gruffly.

“I know, but we were trying for a year before the war, and that’s long enough to get pregnant, Jon,” Dany said, softly as she tried and failed to get the lamb to stand.

“There isn’t any rush, Dany,” Jon said, and she sighed. _He did not seem to understand_, she thought sadly, and so Dany said nothing else, and returned her attention to the lamb. Ghost wanted to play with the lamb, and he had his little hindquarters in the air and his tail was wagging. Dany scratched him behind the ears, and he tried to climb into her lap.

“Ghost go see your father,” Dany giggled, picking the little pup up and handing him to Jon. Jon chuckled and took Ghost from her, and played with him while Dany continued to try and get the lamb to stand.

“He’s getting stronger,” Jon encouraged, as a he reached down and massaged the back of her neck. Dany set the lamb on his wobbly legs and it seemed for a moment like he might stand on his own, but then he collapsed softly to the ground. Dany felt deflated but refused to give up on him. She tried again and got the same result.

“Don’t be disheartened, love, you’ve got him this far,” Jon said, his hand going back to rubbing her neck, “His odds of surviving increase every day.”

Dany hugged her knees, “I just wish there was something more I could do.”

“You are doing all you can,” Jon assured her, setting his newspaper aside, and urging Ghost to get in bed with the little lamb. Dany nodded and looked up at him.

“Shall we go to bed, love?” He asked, and she saw the hunger in his eyes. She nodded again and started to rise but let out a squeal of surprise when Jon swept her off her feet. Ghost barked at him. Jon laughed.

“Oy, Ghost, calm yourself,” He scolded the pup teasingly, but then looked back at Dany, “I’ll be gentle with her.”

Dany shivered and kissed him.

Jon carried her to their bedroom and set her back on her feet. His hands went to the buttons of her blouse, while Dany eagerly shed her skirt. Once divested of her blouse, Jon moved to take off his clothes while Dany went to brush out her hair. Once undressed, Jon came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist and started to kiss at her neck. Giggling, Dany lay her hair brush back on the dresser and leaned back into him.

“Come to bed, love,” He whispered, gruffly against her hair. Dany chuckled.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” She teased him, turning around to face him. He smiled and brushed reverent kisses over her cheeks, her nose, and down her jaw. They laid down together side by side, and Jon reached down and pulled the quilt over their naked bodies.

“Are you warm enough?” Jon asked her, as he tucked the blanket over her.

“I am,” Dany whispered, “But I love you for asking.”

He grinned at her, “Well, I thought I’d better,” he said, “I don’t want Ghost coming in here and biting my arse for not taking care of ya.”

Dany laughed and Jon reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“You’re so pretty,” He said so sincerely that she felt her heart could melt from the love she heard in his voice. Mirroring him, she touched his cheek, and gave him a playful grin.

“So are you.”

Jon laughed loudly at that and snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close for a kiss. Jon rolled onto his back, pulling her over his chest, sinking his hands into her hair, and cradling her face between them. His mouth never leaving hers. She rested her hand on his side, stroking his ribs, as she wedged her leg between his and he groaned. Dany pulled up for a moment to catch her breath, and Jon’s lips chased hers making her smile. He brushed his thumb across her cheek and Dany nuzzled her cheek into his hand. She turned her head and kissed his palm.

“You are always full of hope,” Jon whispered, “I love that about you.”

Dany found herself looking anywhere but into his eyes, ever since the war she had felt anything but hopeful. Maybe once a long, long time ago, she had been sweet, and soft and hopeful but not anymore. Jon tilted her chin, bringing her eyes back to him.

“The way you have not given up on our lamb,” He kissed her again, “So full of hope… you help me have hope again.” 

Dany moaned against his mouth at his loving words. Being gentle, as he had promised Ghost he would be, Jon rolled her underneath him. Dany’s legs fell open to cradle him, and he kissed her again, with one of his hands still buried in her hair.

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother,” He whispered, and kissed her. Jon pulled back then and she whimpered at the loss of his lips, “I hope that’s not an odd thing to say in the middle of what we are about to do?”

The concern on his face made Dany laugh. She wrapped her arms around him and held him too her, pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

“No, it’s not an odd thing to say,” She chuckled, looking into his eyes, and stroking his bearded cheek reassuringly, “I am, after all, going to be the mother of your children.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, then her lips and they held tightly to each other, throughout the night.

* * *

In the wee hours of the morning, Davos brought word that Roslin Tully had indeed gone into labor in the night, and Lady Catelyn and Jeyne would attend her with Gilly as midwife. Hoping to repay the help that Sansa had given them at their home, Dany walked up to the big house after cooking breakfast for Jon, to see if Sansa needed her help. Sansa would be getting meals for Ned and Rickon and Bran alone, while also watching little Neddy, while Jeyne and Catelyn were at the Tully farm. Though the idea of spending a whole day alone with Sansa would not have been Dany’s first choice, she wanted to be a part of the Stark family, and she wanted to be a part of helping take care of each other. She had never known that growing up. In the Targaryen home, one had to watch one’s own back, because no one else was going too. The Starks were different, or at least they seemed to be, and Dany wanted to be like them.

“Dany’s here!” she heard Rickon yell as she approached the house but could not discern from where his voice was coming. Dany entered through the side kitchen door to find Sansa up to her elbows in flour as she rolled dough.

“Good morning,” Dany greeted trying to sound pleasant.

“Morning,” Sansa responded simply, her face questioning.

“What are you making?” Dany asked.

“Biscuits.”

“Can I help?”

“I have it managed,” Sansa said tersely. Not to be daunted, Dany sat down her basket of sewing that she had brought up with her.

“I know Lady Catelyn and Jeyne are gone today,” she started, “If there are any chores you need help with, I’m offering a second set of hands.”

Sansa studied her for a moment and wiped her brow.

“Can you milk a cow?” Sansa asked. _Did they truly not buy their milk?_

“Yes,” Dany said without hesitation, though she had not, in fact, ever milked a cow. _How hard could it be?_

Sansa did not look like she believed her, but Dany only smiled and stared right back at her.

“If you can milk the two diary cows, that would be helpful,” Sansa said, and her mouth twitched in what looked like the beginnings of a smile. _Was Sansa laughing at her?_

“Alright,” Dany said, and followed Sansa out to the barn, where she was handed an apron and a pail.

“Just milk the two and bring the pail into the kitchen when you are done,” Sansa instructed and left her too it.

The two dairy cows were lowing in their pens, and Dany could see the little, shaggy Scottish cows watching her from outside the barn, and she wondered if they too could tell how ignorant she was. Taking the stool, she found leaning against the wall, Dany entered one of the pens.

“Easy, big girl,” She placed her hand on the cow’s hindquarters and eased her way inside the pen. The cow moved to the side, nearly colliding Dany with the wall. She put the stool on the ground.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” She continued to talk to the cow, “I’m not going to give Lady Sansa the satisfaction of me not being able to do this.”

The cow only lowed at her. Dany set the pail under the cow’s udder and settled herself on the stool, only for the cow to move and tip the pail over. Dany tried again. Grabbing one of the cow’s teats and giving it a little tug, the cow made what she could only describe as a startled noise and tried to move away from Dany.

“Come back…please,” Dany pleaded with the creature. She reached under the cow once more, only to lean so far forward on the three-legged stool that she fell over.

“Bloody hell,” Dany cursed under her breath, “Come on now, work with me,” kicking the stool aside she got on her knees beside the cow, “Come on, I know it’s a rough life, I wouldn’t want people pulling on my teats either, but I swear, I am going to fill this bucket if its the last thing I do,” Dany informed the cow, and reached for the cow again, only this time the cow kicked out her back leg hitting the pen.

“What are you doing?” asked an unfamiliar voice. Startled, Dany’s head popped up, to see a young man staring at her on the other side of the pen, with an amused grin on his face. She recognized him as the man she had seen Sansa talking to in the barns on the first day they had arrived at the big house.

“I’m milking the cows for Sansa, she’s busy up at the big house making lunch for the family, and I wanted to help her,” Dany explained, feeling somewhat foolish.

The young man ducked into the pen and came to stand beside the cow, talking to her in calming tones, before turning his attention back to Dany.

“I’m afraid occasionally Lady Sansa has a wicked sense of humor,” he said with a grin.

“She doesn’t do the milking, does she?” Dany asked, catching on immediately.

“No, I’m afraid not,” said the young man, “That is one of the chores the Starks pay me to accomplish.”

Dany let out a huff of breath, “Well…”

“I’m Podrick Payne, by the way,” He said as he sat down on the stool and easily and expertly started to milk the cow.

“Dany Snow,” Dany introduced herself and sat down in the hay beside him to watch.

“Well, Mrs. Snow, why don’t I milk these cows really quickly, and we just won’t tell Lady Sansa that I stumbled upon you,” He grinned, and she smiled at him.

Podrick was sweet with the cows, and kind to her as he milked them and talked to her about working for the Starks and growing up in Wintertown.

“Sansa can be a little flinty sometimes,” Podrick said, keeping a soothing hand on the cow’s side, “I think she thinks she has to be, but she can also be kind and generous when she wants, and she is fiercely loyal to the people that she loves.”

Dany noted the affection in his voice, and the fact that he did not say _Lady_ before Sansa’s name. She wondered if Podrick was one of those people that Sansa perhaps cared about.

“You seem fond of her,” Dany commented quietly, and saw a sad shadow pass over Podrick’s face.

“I’ve known her most of my life,” Podrick said, sighing, “And she is certainly worth the knowing.”

He stood up and handed Dany the two milk pails.

“Don’t let her intimidate you, Mrs. Snow,” He chuckled, “She’ll come around.”

“I hope you are right.”

“Now be sure not to tell her that I helped you,” Podrick said with a smile.

“Now you sound scared of her,” Dany chuckled.

“Oh, I most certainly am, and don’t let on any differently,” Podrick laughed.

Dany took the pails of milk to return to the kitchen. Sansa looked up in surprise from her cooking when Dany entered with the milk, and Dany had to suppress a laugh. She set the pails of milk on the kitchen table.

“What’s next?” Dany asked, eagerly.

Sansa seemed to consider her next move carefully before saying, “Would you like to help me with the dishes or getting Neddy up and fed?”

“I’ll do the dishes,” Dany offered, knowing that was something she could reasonably accomplish without risk of failure. Sansa nodded, giving her an appraising look, “After I take care of Neddy, I am taking lunch to Mother and Jeyne and Gilly, and I could use the extra hands.”

“Alright then,” Dany smiled, and Sansa gave her an assessing look.

Dany set about doing the dishes while Sansa worked on finishing packing lunch to take to the Tully house. They worked in silence each comfortable in their own thoughts, and not feeling compelled to discuss them with each other. Dany wanted to know Sansa, but she supposed if Sansa did not want to be known then there was nothing, she could do about it. They could be family, Dany decided, and so she tried not to step on her toes.

“Jon and I have almost gotten the garden prepared to plant the seeds you suggested,” Dany said.

“Well, be sure to get them in the ground before the first frost,” Sansa said stiffly.

“Yes, I plan to have them in the ground by the end of the week.”

“How’s the lamb?” Sansa asked, more out of duty then care, Dany could tell.

“How’s healthier than he was, and getting stronger every day, though he hasn’t walked yet,” Dany said.

Silence once again enveloped them, and Dany was about to turn around and confess to Sansa about meeting Podrick in the barn when a gunshot sounded off relatively close to the house. Startled, Dany heard herself scream and she dropped the dish she was scrubbing and it clattered in the sink. Her hands shaking were shaking and her heart was pounding.

“It’s Rickon and Theon hunting dove,” Sansa explained simply in a soft voice, having come up beside Dany and laid a hand on her arm. When Dany looked up at her, for the first time she saw compassion in Sansa’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Dany said in a shaking voice, trying to get control of herself. She smoothed some hair out of her face. “I know it’s hard to understand since the war did not affect this place, but some things… I worry will stay with me forever.”

When their eyes met again, the warmth and compassion had gone out of Sansa’s replaced once again by the ice queen, and Dany believed she would never understand Sansa.

* * *

The Tully farm seemed quiet to Dany as she and Sansa walked up to the house. They walked in through the kitchen and laid out lunch on the countertop for the women working upstairs. As they quietly laid out the food they had prepared and brought up, a bloodcurdling scream from upstairs set Dany’s heart to racing. She and Sansa exchanged a look, and for a moment they seemed to understand each other.

“The baby must be getting closer,” Sansa said logically, even though her eyes were wide. Dany nodded.

“I suppose I’ll go up and tell them that we’ve brought food?” Dany asked. Sansa nodded in response as she continued her preparations. As Dany walked toward the staircase, she heard a bedroom door open and close. Then she heard Roslin shriek once more, and she stopped dead in her tracks, and believed it would haunt her for a long time to come.

“Edmure!” They heard Roslin scream, “Edmure!”

Startled, and unsure, Dany looked over her shoulder at Sansa and found that even Sansa’s stone face was awash with grief as they both stared hard at the staircase. Jeyne came rushing down the stairs a moment later with tears in her eyes and stopped when she saw them standing there.

“Is Neddy behaving himself?” She asked casually, trying to brush away her tears.

“Yes, he’s with Father right now,” Sansa said softly, “Is…Is Roslin alright?”

“Everything is progressing as it should be,” Jeyne said in a choked voice, “Gilly said it should not be long now.”

Sansa came to Jeyne then and Dany watched as Sansa wrapped her arms around Jeyne. More tears fell from Jeyne’s eyes, as Sansa held her.

“Robb never left my side when… when Neddy was born, even though it’s not the done thing for a man to be in the delivery room,” She huffed out, “And… and Roslin’s all alone now, and I’m all alone…. And we will never see them again.”

Sansa stroked Jeyne’s hair, while Dany felt like her own heart was breaking and yet she had no tears to cry. All she could think was how very cruel life had been… to all of them.

* * *

By the time Dany walked home, she was weary down to her very bones and was overcome with a sadness that she could not seem to shake. She and Sansa had left the Tully house not long after bringing lunch and returned to the big house where they spent the afternoon chasing little Neddy, and cooking supper. Dany had considered staying at the Tully house to help Gilly, and to be with Roslin when the baby finally came but she had not been able to bring herself to the birthing room. Roslin’s cries for her dead husband still rung in her ears. When she crossed the fence separating their little farm from the Starks, Dany caught a glimpse of Jon’s form watching her cross the pasture, after having come from the barn. She locked eyes with him, as she drew closer. He started to walk out toward her, and when he was close enough Dany flung herself into his arms. Jon wrapped his arms around her.

“Everything alright, love?” He asked, against her hair. Dany just wanted to be wrapped up in him forever. Dany pressed kisses all over his face, making him smile.

“Yes, just don’t ever leave me, do you hear?” She said. Jon stopped her frantic kisses by cradling her face between his hands.

“I don’t intend too,” He said seriously, and Dany held onto him tighter.

“Did you Sansa work you too hard?” Jon chuckled, as he released his hold on her, and laced their fingers together to walk toward the house.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Dany assured him, and squeezed his hand.

“And Roslin and the babe?” Jon asked.

“Healthy,” Dany said, “I just… I… I can’t fathom how Roslin feels right now, all alone with a brand-new baby, without her husband.”

“I’m afraid that is the way of many mother’s and children right now,” Jon said sadly. Dany thought of Jeyne’s face, and sweet little Neddy, who would never know his father, a father who had been brave and kind, and worth the knowing.

“She was…” Dany started, her feelings raw, “Roslin was crying out for Edmure during her pains.”

Jon sighed, a deep, sad sigh.

“I’m not likely to forget it for a really long time,” Dany said softy, and clung to his arm. Jon hugged her to his side and led her to their cottage. When they opened the door, Ghost bounded up to them, and then they heard the lamb bleat for them.

“Hello, little one,” Dany called out to him, and then to both her and Jon’s shock, the lamb stood on wobbly legs and took a few steps toward them. Dany laughed, and when she looked at Jon he was beaming. _Maybe life could win after all?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Jon and Dany take a trip to Inverness (Jon POV)


	18. Scratching the Surface (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and for commenting! I appreciate you all! 
> 
> Here we are going to get our first glimpse into what's going on with Sansa, and even I got emotional when I wrote it, so I really hope that emotion comes through. I really love Sansa in the show and book and how she grows and changes, and had hoped for a more intelligent exploration of Dany and Sansa's similarities and differences in the season 8 debacle, but we got the mess we got instead. Anyway, here I wanted Sansa to be complicated, and sympathetic, and demonstrate those layers of character development that I think make her interesting. Anyway, its just scratching her surface and there is still more to reveal, but I wanted to get a little bit of her story out in the open.

Jon walked up to the big house before dawn to pick up the Stark’s car. Ned had said they could borrow it to go to Inverness, for which Jon was deeply grateful, as the prospect of taking the bus after purchasing chickens was unappealing. Having already taken care of his sheep, he left Dany wrapped up in a pile of blankets with Ghost. The nights were getting cooler as September was coming to a close, and a crisp October would soon be arriving. Jon had always been fond of the autumn. Opening the back door of the kitchen, where Ned had informed him that he would leave the keys, Jon nearly ran into Podrick Payne coming out.

“Jon,” He said looking distressed.

“Pod,” Jon greeted with a smile, but Podrick did not smile back, only making a hasty exit toward the barns. When Jon entered the kitchen, he was surprised to find Sansa sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea, another cup was sitting across from her having obviously been abandoned by Podrick.

“Early morning tea?” Jon chuckled, teasingly. Sansa was not half so secretive as she liked to imagine. Jon’s smile died, however, when he saw Sansa’s pretty face, red and splotchy, and eyes swollen from crying. Rage filled him.

“What did he do? If he dared lay a hand on you…” Jon started toward the door to go after Podrick.

“Jon…” Sansa’s voice halted him, “He didn’t do anything. You know Pod’s not like that, I think I know by now what those types look like. I may be a slow learner, but I do learn.”

Jon gave her a sad smile.

“Father said you would stop by to get the car, I’ll get you the keys,” Sansa abruptly stood but Jon gently caught her by the elbow.

“Sansa, you don’t have to be so hard, not with me, you know, that right?”

Sansa looked at the ground as if considering his words.

“I know I’m not Robb, but you are just as much my kin, my sister,” He said kindly. Sansa looked at him then.

“Pod is planning to go to Aberdeen,” Sansa said softly, “He says he wants to make something of himself.”

“And you don’t want to go?” Jon assumed. Sansa brushed a few more tears from her eyes, trying to act strong.

“He didn’t…” She paused, “I was not invited.”

“I see,” Jon was not sure what to say. Jon imagined Pod may be worried about asking Ned Stark for his daughter’s hand when he was little more than a stable boy, which Jon understood. Jon had not been a stable boy when he married Dany, but the situation was not dissimilar, except for the fact that, unlike Arys Targaryen, Ned Stark wanted his daughter to be happy… even if it meant being with a stable boy.

Sansa turned heartbroken eyes to him and for a moment he saw the tender little girl she had once been, “Am I really so hard to love?” She sniffed, “Am I really so easy to leave behind?”

Jon pulled his precious cousin into his arms and held her.

“I know I’m not sweet and innocent, like a girl is supposed to be, any more… not after… after… everything that happened to me… in… in England…” Sansa huffed against his shoulder, “I know I’m damaged…”

“You’re not damaged, Sans,” Jon held her tighter.

“I thought I would never be happy again after England,” Sansa said softly, “But then I came home, and Mother and Father and Robb helped me put myself back together… then I met Willas, and… and I thought everything was going to be alright after all.”

Jon knew what was coming next, “Then the war started.”

She nodded, “And then Willas was gone after only a few months. I wanted to go be a nurse, but Mother and Father would not allow it, because they seem to think I’m some sort of broken little bird, and sometimes its hard not to believe that,” Sansa pulled away from him and wiped at her eyes, “And so I did my duty, I obeyed mother and father and stayed and waited, and now I haunt these castle walls like a ghost and around every corner, I hear the laughter and the voices of Robb and Arya, and all the dear ones I loved who left me behind. Sometimes I think I would rather have died with them on some unknown battlefield somewhere far away.”

Jon felt his heart break for her, “Sans…” He reached for her again, but she brushed him off.

“I’m sorry, Jon, I’ve said too much,” She brushed the tears from her cheeks, “I’m just upset about Pod, I’ll get over it… I always do.”

The hardness was returning to her eyes once more as she turned to retrieve the keys for Jon, and when she returned her face betrayed nothing of the vulnerability of only moments before. It made him sad.

“Do you need anything from Inverness?” Jon asked, not sure what else to say. Sansa shook her head, but then turned back to him.

“I did have a thought about Dany’s garden, and meant to tell her but have not had the chance,” Sansa said, in a guarded voice. Jon believed Dany and Sansa could be friends if Sansa would only let her guard down, but as with all things regarding Sansa, he knew it would take time.

“Alright, would you like me to tell her?” Jon smiled.

“I know she is already planting regular onions,” Sansa said, “But I think she should add spring onions to her garden, they will fetch a better price if she plans to sell them at the town market. Fewer people sell spring onions. They will grow in winter and are easy to manage.”

“I had not thought of that,” Jon said with a smile, “I’ll tell her, and we can pick up what we need to plant them in Inverness today.”

Sansa nodded and with one final glance at her, Jon left with the car.

* * *

Urquhart Castle stood in ruins, but it was beautiful just the same as it was nestled on a hill beside Loch Ness. With winter coming and the global economy still recovering from the war, there were not as many tourists as often could be found here, and Jon was glad of it. He and Dany toured the ancient grounds hand in hand and now were laying beside each other in a grassy knoll beneath the castle, beside the Loch, quite hidden from view. Dany’s head was on his chest, as he toyed with the end of her hair.

“When I spoke to Uncle Ned about the car yesterday, he told me that Sansa and Catelyn are organizing a harvest festival in October,” Jon said.

“That sounds like fun,” Dany said, softly.

“Yes,” Jon agreed, “I think everyone could use some cheerfulness.”

Dany nodded, and tilted her head back to grin at him, “You still haven’t worn your kilt for me, will you wear it to the Harvest festival?”

Jon chuckled, “Aye, I will wear it to the harvest festival if I still have mine packed away somewhere.”

“Is it true, you don’t wear any knickers beneath?” Dany asked with a teasing grin, laying her head back down on his chest and stroking her fingers across his abdomen.

Jon chuckled, “I don’t.”

“There were none so brave as the Scottish…” Dany giggled. Laughing, Jon reached down and tickled her side, causing her to squeal and squirm away from him. Jon caught her hand and pulled her back atop his chest. Dany looked fondly down into his eyes, the spark of playfulness still alight in them.

“What do you do if there is a good, strong wind?” She asked with a straight face, and Jon silenced her with a kiss.

“Cheeky girl,” He whispered against her lips. He threaded his fingers through her hair, and kissed her again, and smiled when he heard a soft sigh of contentment escape her. When he pulled his lips away, she remained atop him and laid her head against his chest once again. Jon smoothed his hand down her spine, before resting it on her bottom.

“Is that your hand on my arse, Jon Snow?” She asked, without moving.

“Aye,” Jon said, grinning. This was how they had been before the war, young and bright and full of love and mirth. “Shall I move it?”

“Can’t imagine where else you might put it, so perhaps it should stay,” Dany chuckled. Jon gave her bottom a gentle squeeze, setting her to laughing once again. Jon kissed the top of her head, and Dany sighed in contentment once more.

“Thank you for bringing me here today,” Dany said, softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Dany, I am happy that we got to come,” Jon said.

They lay there in silence, unmoving for a while, until Dany propped her head up to look at him.

“I know you weren’t agreeable to the idea when I asked you last week,” Dany started. Jon frowned, _what could she be about to ask?_ “But if we have time today in Inverness…could we… could we at least stop and talk to the doctor at the clinic?”

Jon sighed and stroked her back, “Yes, if you really think it would help?”

“I do, I just want to know.”

“Then we will go to the clinic first thing.”

* * *

The clinic was cold, and Jon noted that Dany was shivering. He put his arm around her, and she smiled and leaned into him. He was still not entirely sure they needed to be here, but he was not going to deny her peace of mind after they had been through so much.

“Snow?” A nurse finally called, and Jon and Dany stood.

“We usually only take the women back, sir,” The nurse said tersely.

“I want him with me,” Dany insisted. The nurse’s mouth formed a thin line, and she glared at Jon.

“Very well,” the nurse led them back to a little room, after taking Dany’s height, and weight, and temperature.

“Wait here for the doctor,” the nurse commanded and disappeared. Jon fidgeted beside Dany and she laid her hand on his.

“Calm down, Jon,” She smiled at him, “We’re just here to talk to the doctor.”

“I know, but I think I’d rather talk to Dr. Aemon,” Jon sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “If we have to talk to a doctor at all.”

“Perhaps I should have,” Dany said uncertainly, “But Dr. Aemon and Gilly are becoming my friends, and mixing friendship with work, is a bad thing, right?”

She sounded so unsure, that Jon could not help but wrap his arms around her. He knew she needed friends in Wintertown, he did not want her to be lonely there, but he trusted Aemon and Gilly, and he believed they could all remains friends, even if they were involved in their lives medically. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking now,” He whispered against her hair, “I just want to be supportive.”

“And you are,” She assured him and squeezed his arm. Jon kissed her.

They waited for quite some time before the doctor came, and Jon felt nerves in his stomach. Dany clutched tightly to his hand, grounding him, or perhaps herself.

“Hello, Mrs. Snow, Mr. Snow,” The Doctor greeted and sat down and looked at her chart, “So what I am seeing here is that there is some concern of infertility?”

Jon saw Dany swallow hard before she nodded.

“And your last menstruation?” The doctor asked.

“June,” Dany said softly, “I don’t recall the date.”

Jon tried to hide his surprise. She had not told him that it had been so long. Granted, they did not generally discuss her courses, but he thought she would have told him something like that. Had he known, he could have made arrangements to see a doctor when they were still in London, a good doctor, at a good hospital instead of this backwoods clinic.

“And before that?”

“They were rather erratic,” Dany confessed, and squeezed Jon’s hand again, “I was in France…”

The doctor nodded, and glanced up at Jon again, in what could only be described as annoyance. 

“And how long have you been trying to conceive?” The doctor asked, coldly.

“We were married for a year, before… before we both left for the war…” Dany explained, “We were not taking any precautions, but I never conceived in that time.”

“Well, Mrs. Snow,” The doctor said, and glanced up again at Jon briefly, “There are many new tests that can be run these days to determine causes of infertility, but I am afraid I do not have the means to do them here, I can, however, refer you to specialists in Aberdeen or Edinburgh, doctors who specialize in women’s issues and infertility.”

“Is there much success?” Dany asked, almost sadly. Jon just wanted to wrap her up and take her home and tell her they did not need anything but each other to be happy.

“Some are successful, and some are not, it generally depends on the woman,” The doctor said, “There is also a psychoanalyst here who is willing to see patients about infertility.”

“What do psychoanalysts have to do with infertility?” Dany asked, skeptically.

“There has been some success in curing infertility through pinpointing problems in a woman’s psyche, such as a rejection of femininity, hysteria, a fear of sex, or a subconscious hatred of their husbands that prevents them from getting pregnant,” the doctor explained, and Jon bristled with anger. _How dare this doctor lay the blame of infertility at his wife’s feet after all she had been through?_ Dany looked up at him, and the vulnerable look in her eyes broke his heart. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“If you want to slip into a gown, I can see to your basic gynecological needs here today, but I am afraid for further tests and treatments, you would have to go to Aberdeen or Edinburgh,” the doctor said. Dany grimaced.

“We will think on it,” Dany said and abruptly stood from the exam table, apparently having no intention of being examined by this doctor. The doctor did not seem perturbed, he merely put her chart back on the desk.

“If you need to book an appointment see the nurse at the front,” The doctor said, and left them with a polite goodbye and nice to meet you.

They were quiet as they left the clinic and headed toward the market where Jon intended to purchase chickens.

“I will talk to Gilly and Dr. Aemon,” Dany told him softly, “We cannot go to Edinburgh or Aberdeen with winter so close.”

“Dany, there is no rush,” Jon said. _Had he made her feel pressured to have a baby in some way that he was not aware? Should he ask her? _

“I know Jon, it’s just I’m not getting younger, and I… I want a baby,” She said.

“Dany you’re only 25.”

“I know… but with each year it will get harder. That is the way of things even for healthy women, Jon.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“There might be.”

Jon sighed, and said nothing in response.

“After everything, Jon,” She whispered, “After seeing so much death and destruction, I just want to be a part of bringing some life into the world.”

* * *

The troubles of the clinic were temporarily forgotten as taking chickens home in the car distracted their minds.

“Twelve hens and a rooster,” Jon said to Dany, “I think that is what our little farm can maintain right now.”

Dany and Jon wondered the market until they had chosen their chickens. Jon picked up the hens in turn and watched with an amused grin, as his precious wife examined the chickens, checking for things she had obviously read about in a book. If anyone could learn how to farm from a book, it was Dany, he thought with a smile.

“Or we can take thirteen hens, and no rooster, if we do not want to worry about hatching chicks,” Jon said.

“No, I think chicks would be a good addition,” Dany said, “Sansa said they could be sold in the town market, we could keep six hens for eggs only, and six for chicks?”

“I think that is a reasonable plan,” Jon encouraged, and she flashed him a smile that said she knew exactly what he was doing. Jon picked up another hen for her scrutiny, “Do you want to hold it?”

Dany’s eyes met his, and he saw an almost amusing flash of horror cross her face, which was quickly schooled behind a confident smile.

“Yes,” She said with only a moment’s hesitation. Very carefully, Jon put the hen in Dany’s outstretched arms, but holding a chicken as one might cuddle a baby lamb or a pup was simply not the same. The chicken squawked and flapped its wings, and Dany let out a little squeal of surprise before it leapt from her arms and feathers flew. Jon could not help but laugh, and she glared him. The man who had been going around with them to crate the chickens they were taking set after the runaway hen. Grinning apologetically, Jon caught Dany around the waist and kissed the top of her head.

“You are becoming an excellent farmer,” He said, “And I truly do mean that.”

“Thank you,” She said with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest, “I suppose somethings just take practice.”

“Aye,” Jon said, and led her, with his arm about her waist to pay for their new livestock.

* * *

By the time they made it back to the cottage, it was after dark and Dany had fallen asleep in the passenger’s seat. She slept fitfully, Jon noted, as she had slept last night, mumbling broken words, some he could make out, and some he could not. He could, however, very clearly make out the name _Missandei_. The same name had been on her tongue in her nightmares last night. From some of her letters she had written to him during the war, he knew Missandei had been another nurse and her friend, she had even mentioned her to him here, but somewhere along the line Missandei’s name had disappeared from the letters. He wondered what had happened that so haunted Dany’s dreams? He pulled the car up to their barn and parked it. Going around to Dany’s side, he opened the car door and pulled her into his arms, the chickens would be dealt with after he got his wife settled. Somewhere between asleep and awake, Dany wrapped her arms around him, allowing him to carry her, and she nuzzled her face sweetly against his neck.

“Jon…” She whispered. 

“Yes, love?” He asked quietly, trying to determine if she was asleep or awake.

“Missandei,” She repeated. _She was still sleeping_. Jon took her inside and laid her on the bed, but she did not release him.

“Dany-love,” He chuckled quietly, “You have to turn me loose, so I can tend to the chickens.”

She mumbled something else in her sleep, but then her eyes fluttered open and focused on him, looking confused for a moment.

“You fell asleep,” He explained. She nodded and blinked her eyes for a moment, before finally releasing her hold on him. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to put the chickens in the coop, and I’ll come back and be right beside you.” He stood up.

“Jon?” She drew his attention again.

“Yes?”

She looked up at him, “That doctor said unconscious hatred of a husband could cause infertility,” She took his hand and squeezed, “You don’t think I hate you, do you?”

Jon knelt beside the bed, and smoothed some hair back from her face, “No, love, I don’t think you hate me, not even subconsciously.” He wanted to throttle that doctor. 

Dany smiled at him then, “Good, I did not want you walking around thinking such foolishness,” she said with a huff, “Because I love you so very much.”

They kissed each other then, and Jon wished he did not have to go take care of the chickens. “I love you too, now go to sleep; I’ll be right back after I’ve dealt with the chickens.”

Jon hurried through the remainder of his day, but after checking on his sheep and getting the chickens in the chicken coop, making sure Ghost and the lamb were warm and snug, an hour had passed. He crept into their bedroom, to find that Dany had shed a layer of clothes but had apparently fallen back to sleep before she managed to get into her nightgown. Jon smiled as he studied her half-clothed body, before covering her up with their blanket, and getting in bed beside her. He kissed the top of her head. He closed his own eyes and settled himself beside her. As he lay there, however, he knew that sleep would not come, sleep over the last few nights had alluded him, as nightmares haunted him too. Studying Dany’s form in the darkness, Jon sighed, and wondered if the nightmares would ever really leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the Inverness doctor's attitude toward infertility, if anyone is interested: In the mid-1900s there were still many stigmas attached to infertility alongside the simultaneous growth of modern medicine. To research this aspect of the story, I read an article published in the Public Health Journal entitled "Emotions, Fertility, and the 1940s Woman," by R.H. Epstein, in which is discussed how psychoanalysis was turned to when modern medicine could not determine a medical reason for infertility in the Post-War years. It was a rather sad, and honestly a little shocking, article which demonstrated how period doctors often blamed women's psyche when there was no discernable medical reason for infertility, often treating them like infertility was their own fault. This article provided the inspiration for the Inverness doctor.


	19. Newly Wed (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remembered I had this chapter half written in my notebook so decided to finish it today and type it up. Its not my favorite chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys!

Dany felt warm all over, even in the chilly night air, as she slowly emerged from sleep. Grinning, she realized Jon’s solid, warm body was pressed up against her back, with both his arms wrapped around her, and his leg slung across hers. His breath tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. She was thankful to find him resting. He was usually so fitful at night, thrashing and mumbling in his sleep, and she did not know what to do for him. Dany’s dreams were often haunted by Missandei, and she did not anymore know what to do for herself than she did for Jon. Just as she had yet to tell him everything of her experiences in the war, she knew he too had more to say. Jon’s arms tightened around her, and Dany could sense that he was starting to wake. Stealthily, Dany pulled her nightgown up around waist and pressed her bare bottom against his, as she knew he was quite naked beneath their blankets. She felt his chest rumble in a deep chuckle as his arms tightened around her.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Dany asked, as he sniffed her hair making her giggle. One of his hands began to stroke her side, and Dany snuggled back against him as close as she could.

“Shouldn’t you?” He countered.

“I suppose we both should be,” Dany sighed as he continued to stroke her skin.

“Your skin is so soft,” Jon whispered in her ear. Dany smiled and sighed in contentment as he continued to stroke up and down her ribcage.

“I like the way your hands feel on my skin,” She whispered tentatively in return. They rarely spoke when they made love, and she spoke even less than Jon when he was loving her, but she felt perhaps that needed to be remedied, “They feel strong and gentle both,” She chuckled taking his hand and running her finger along his knuckles and over his calloused palm, before adding softly, “I don’t know how they can be both but they are.”

She placed his hand over her breast, and she wondered if perhaps it took a deeper type of strength to be so very gentle, especially after seeing so much hardship. Another contented sigh escaped her lips as he began to knead her breast, and kiss against the nape of her neck.

“You’re sweet,” He whispered gruffly, “I know you don’t think that you are, but you are so sweet and soft….” The hand that had been kneading her breasts wandered down and cupped her between her legs, “And womanly…”

Dany laughed at that, even as her breath caught when he stroked her tenderly over that most intimate place. He kissed her neck once more and whispered to her, “And you are brave… one of the bravest people I know.”

Jon flattened his palm against her abdomen, drawing her hips closer to his, as he continued to nuzzle, and nip and suck at her neck. Dany felt a slight ache in her heart as she wondered, with that he hand kept pressed to her stomach, if he was imagining what she might look like carrying his baby. Slowly, with the most careful and gentle hands, she found herself being eased onto her stomach, and Jon planted kisses all along her spine. He ran his fingers along her ribcage, and then brushed his palm across her bottom. Dany soaked up his tenderness like a flower in need of water. 

Jon slid his hand to her thigh, nudging her legs apart, before placing another kiss to the top of her spine, then between her shoulder blades and the dip of her back. Dany hugged her pillow and breathed.

“May I, love?” He asked, like he always did. She could not recall them ever loving in this fashion, with her on her stomach.

“Like this?” She whispered, shakily. He kissed her hip, and chuckled.

“However, you like, Dany-love, I’m not picky,” Jon’s eyes met hers when she looked over her shoulder. He was grinning at her, and she laughed.

“Alright,” Dany said softly, as she buried her face back in the pillow, smiling to herself as she felt him feathering kisses back up her body as he situated himself between her legs. Dany moaned and released a deep breath into the pillow as he pushed into her.

“Alright?” He groaned, as he leaned back down and nuzzled her neck.

“Yes,” Dany sighed softly, taking his hand in hers and clinging to it as he moved in deep languid strokes inside her. He kissed and sucked at her neck some more. She giggled, “Jon Snow…” then she moaned, “…you had better not be leaving marks on my neck!”

His breaths were coming out in harsh pants, but he laughed, and she felt the reverberation through her body.

“I’m being careful,” He promised in a husky voice as he brought his hips flush with hers in a particularly firm thrust. Dany felt her toes curls. 

“Oh,” She whimpered. Another kiss was placed on her neck to gentle her. Dany smiled, though her heart was racing now. Dany rocked her hips back sharply into his causing him to gasp, and nearly collapse atop her, which set them both into breathless giggles. As their bodies moved experimentally together and Dany gripped his hand once more to ground herself, she smiled at the thought that they felt newly wed again.

* * *

“Damn chicken!” Dany cursed at their rooster after it pecked a chunk out of her leg just above her boot. She looked down to see blood trickling out of the wound, “You’re lucky I want chicks, or I’d fry you for supper!”

The rooster only squawked at her. Dany looked up when she heard Jon chuckling at her from where he was mending one of their sheep pens in the barn. Ghost and their lamb frolicked around him. Dany stepped out of the chicken coop, and Jon came over to her with a grin on his face.

“It isn’t funny, sir,” Dany scolded though she could not help but smile, “The little bugger practically pecked a hole in my leg!”

In one swift motion, Jon lifted her by the waist and set her on his worktable.

“Roosters can be aggressive,” He said, as he gently removed her boot and sock and examined the wound, “Though I would pay money to see you try to slaughter that chicken and fry him for dinner.”

He was still laughing, and she gave him a playful but gentle kick with her other still booted foot.

“Well, if we hatch a boy chick,” Dany said, “That rooster is getting replaced.”

Smiling, Jon patted her knee, “Sit still, while I go get some antiseptic and something to wrap this in.”

He was only gone for a few minutes when he returned with his supplies. Jon knelt in front of her and started to clean the wound. Dany smiled, as she looked down at his pretty black curls, and serious face as he worked. It was odd, she thought not for the first time, how familiar he was and yet not. Just as they had made love last night, there had been days over the last month or so of them being reunited, when it felt like they were newlyweds again… as if they had just started over from scratch. Dany reached out and touched his soft curls as he worked on her leg, and he glanced up and smiled at her. She loved those curls, and those deep, serious eyes. 

“Does it need stitching?” Dany asked, redirecting her attention to her leg. She had never stitched herself up before, but she imagined it could not be too difficult with all the experience she had.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jon said as he wrapped it.

“Good, I’d hate to have to make you stitch me up,” She chuckled. 

Jon shivered at her statement, “I think we’d have to call for help before I could put a needle in you.” Gently, Jon replaced her sock and then her boot.

Dany gave her precious husband a smile, “I think you could, especially if it was for my good.”

Grinning, Jon lifted her from the table and set her on her feet, but he kept his hands on her waist, “Maybe,” he conceded as he placed a kiss on her forehead. Dany leaned into him and for a moment she just rested her forehead against his chest, breathing in his scent.

“You have always taken such good care of me,” Dany said with a smile. Jon looked into her eyes.

“Well, it’s only fair,” He said, “Because you take such good care of me.”

Dany kissed his chest and straightened.

“I’m going to set out lunch,” She informed him, “Come in when you are ready, and then after lunch I am going with Dr. Aemon to help him with another patient.”

“Alright, love,” Jon said, giving her bottom a playful pat, “I’ll be right behind you.”

Dany entered their cottage, with Ghost and their lamb trailing behind her. She supposed they ought to name the lamb something, and further, they ought to start getting it used to spending time in the pasture instead of trailing after them and Ghost. The little wolf, however, had taken quite a liking to the lamb, and it felt cruel to separate them when they had gotten so attached to one another. Dany stepped over a few piles of their meager belongings that Jon had managed to salvage from their home in London. She had finally managed to find some time to unpack those crates and had been surprised by a few of the things she had found survived as she had slowly been sorting through them. Jon, in his usual reticent manner, had not given any details as to the contents of the large crate, only saying that they contained some of her things and some of his from the house in London, as if she did not know that. Dany could only smile and shake her head. He was not much of a talker, her husband. Dany picked up an old photograph of her older brother Rhaegar, the brother she never knew, whose death changed her family forever. How the photograph had survived the Blitz, Dany would never know. She had hoped, within all of the salvaged belongings she might find her mother’s locket, so far there had been no sign of it. Dany sat Rhaegar’s picture down and continued toward the kitchen, setting out food for their lunch. Most of the items had belonged to them during their first year of marriage. Dany had met Jon in late 1937, just before her eighteenth birthday. He was a student at the University of London, and she had been little more than a girl, living on the fringes of her father’s and brother’s affluent life, hoping to not be noticed too much.

Jon opened the cottage door, interrupting her thoughts.

“Do you remember the night we met?” She asked him and was rewarded with one of his beaming smiles.

“Aye, of course I do, how could I forget?” Jon came into the kitchen beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, before adding playfully, “You were wearing that pretty white dress, the one where I could see your knickers if you were standing in just the right light.”

Dany smacked his arm, feigning indignation, “For shame, Jon Snow, you ought not to be looking at a lady’s underthings.”

He laughed, “Only yours.”

“Well, I wasn’t yours to look at yet,” She said.

“You were so pretty with light shining in around you, and with the moonglow in your hair,” Jon crooned into her ear and she just shook her head, “I couldn’t pull my eyes away.”

“Moonglow?” Dany leaned back into him, chuckling.

“Aye, moonglow.”

“That’s very poetic coming from you,” Dany giggled, secretly endeared by his words.

“It’s the truth.”

“Do you remember what we talked about that night?” Dany asked. She and Jon had met at a dance held by a mutual friend, and both were utterly hopeless at dancing. Dany had escaped the crowded ballroom, and the ridicule of her brother, Viserys, to go outside, only to find Jon sitting on the steps looking at the stars. Then he spoke to her in that beautiful and deep Scottish brogue of his, and she was sure that she was besotted on the spot. He had told her such lovely tales of Scotland and his loving family. Having so few happy childhood memories of her own, Dany had given him her dreams and her hopes.

“We talked about how we both wanted to finish University, and how you wanted to write, and about family… and… children,” Jon said.

“I think in fell in love with you that night,” Dany said.

“Did you now?” Jon smiled. Dany nodded.

“I loved how you talked about your home and family, it made me want a home and family with you.”

Jon smiled at kissed the top of her head, “Well, we made that dream come true at least, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Dany said softly, though she felt they might be a more complete family with a handful of curly, dark-haired babes running about the farm.

“The war has not stolen everything then,” Jon said softly as he released her and drew her toward the table so that they could eat lunch together.

“No, not everything,” Dany agreed, with a smile. They had been so young when they wed, and carried away by passion for each other, and wide-eyed dreams of what the world would hold for them. Harsh reality had set in swiftly, even before the war, when Dany’s father had both disinherited her and disowned her for taking up with Jon. Her and Jon’s betrothal had been hastened when Aerys Targaryen flung Dany out of the house and bid her never to return. Dany would not have been all that put out to leave her father and brother, except for the fact that she had had nowhere to go except to Jon. Thus, they were wed and began their life together, and though it was harder than they imagined, both having to leave University due to lack of funds and need for work, they had spent a happy year of marriage together before the war pulled them apart.

* * *

Dany’s hands shook as she looked at the blood on them. She and Aemon had gone to see another patient who needed some minor stitching, only to be pulled away in an emergency to the Mormont home. Jeor Mormont had taken an ax wound to the leg. The wound was not as bad as she envisioned when Dacey Mormont had described it to her and Aemon, but still, it looked quite grisly. They had finished cleaning it and stitching it up, and Dr. Aemon was inside with Jeor now bandaging the wound, while Dany had stepped outside for some air. Her hands were still shaking. A strange detachment had come over her as she had stitched the wound, a detachment that she had lived in during the war. Now, though, as she stared down at the blood on her hands, emotions were threatening to choke the life from her. Still no tears would come, but she felt like she could not breathe.

“Daenerys?” Aemon’s voice called to her. Dany looked up and saw the old man coming toward her. Dany stood swiftly and pumped water from the pump and scrubbed at her hands with the medical soap Aemon had given her to wash.

“Jeor settled?” Dany asked, trying to sound un-phased.

“He will be in pain for a while, but he’s been made comfortable,” Aemon said, “Gilly and I will check on him on the morrow and redress the wound.”

“Good, good,” Dany nodded, “I’m almost finished.”

“And you, Dany?” Aemon started coming to stand beside her, “Are you settled?”

“I’m fine,” Dany said softly.

“I’m sure,” Aemon replied in a tone that told her he did not believe her.

They were quiet as Dany finished scrubbing her hands, and then again as Dany led Aemon to the car.

“I don’t know if I’m the one who should be assisting you in your medical practice,” Dany said as they drove back toward town.

“And why do you say that?”

“I…I’m not really a nurse,” Dany said, “All my training came from hastily arranged Red Cross seminars and field hospitals. I did not go to school for it, like nurses in regular hospitals.”

“I haven’t worked with hospital nurses since before the Great War,” Aemon chuckled, “As a matter of fact before you and young Gilly, I had not worked with anyone in many years.”

Dany remained silent.

“I began my medical practice in the 1890s, and my profession has changed much over the course of the years, as has yours,” Aemon said.

“I don’t have a profession,” Dany responded.

“But you do,” Aemon’s voice was quiet, “You have saved lives.”

“I didn’t…” Dany started to protest. She felt like most of her experience in nursing on the battlefield, had been little more than putting inadequate patches on festering wounds.

“You did,” Aemon assured her, “I know the sheer number of deaths you saw in comparison makes the number of lives you saved feel small, I felt much the same after the Great War… but every one of those lives mattered.”

“I see them sometimes,” Dany whispered, “The bodies, the blood, the wounds… I see it my dreams…”

Aemon nodded his head in understanding.

“That’s why I don’t think I can assist you anymore,” Dany said sadly. She was broken. _How could she help anyone?_

“You, of course, must do what you feel is right for you,” Aemon said, understandingly. Dany wanted to help Aemon, she did, but was not sure she could continue to manage if every time she took a needle to a wound, she was transported back to France in her mind. She just wanted to forget France. She wanted to live like it never happened. She wanted to be a newlywed with Jon again in their little house, pretending that nothing in the world could hurt them.

“How are you and young Jon faring at your cottage?” Aemon asked changing the subject. Dany smiled sadly.

“We are getting on quite well,” Dany said, “We have recently acquired some hens and a particularly nasty rooster.”

Aemon chuckled.

“It’s beginning to feel like a home,” Dany admitted, “Its been a long while since I’ve felt at home.” She was not sure she had ever felt at home anywhere in her life.

“Building a happy home together is precious,” Aemon said, “And not to be taken for granted.”

“Yes,” Dany agreed, though she may have come from affluence she knew the poverty of a joyless home.

“I imagine the two of you are looking forward to adding some children to that happy home,” Aemon said with a kind smile. Dany felt her heart twist.

“Yes,” she said sadly, then took a breath. Should she ask him? “Dr. Aemon….” She started but was not sure how to start.

“Yes?”

“When Jon and I were in Inverness, I saw a doctor…”

She proceeded to explain to Dr. Aemon her fears, her visit with the doctor in Inverness, and the fact that her monthly cycle had not come in so long.

“I want a baby… even… even if its just one,” Dany admitted softly, feeling defeated, “I’m… I’m afraid there’s something wrong with me.”

Aemon considered her for a moment, “These things tend to happen in their own time.”

“Even after so long?”

“Contrary to the beliefs of many, medicine does not hold the answers to every question,” Aemon said, in that wise way he had, “Human beings have turned to many things searching for answers.”

“Like psychoanalysis?” Dany asked bitterly.

“Psychoanalysis has its uses,” Aemon said, “But we can’t analyze and categorize every human being and confine them to neat little boxes. People are unique creatures, with unique gifts, unique needs, and unique hurts.”

Dany said nothing in response.

“Only God has all the answers, my dear, but we muddle through as best we can in this world.”

“So, you think I ought not worry about it?” Dany asked.

“I think you need to be patient with your body, give your body time to heal itself from the stress of the war… and your heart too… Sometimes these things take time,” Aemon said simply, “Gilly could provide you with the general examination to be sure there are no immediate concerns, while you are waiting for nature to take its course.”

Dany only nodded.

* * *

Gilly pulled the blanket back over Dany’s legs as Dany lowered her knees. Gilly had prodded and pushed and examined and found nothing remiss.

“I’m sorry for the discomfort,” Gilly apologized as she cleaned her instruments and began to repack her medical bag.

“I appreciate you coming up here on such short notice,” Dany said softly, still feeling somewhat vulnerable. After Dany had returned Aemon home, she had asked Gilly for an appointment, and Gilly had promised to come up to their cottage that very evening.

“This is why I became a midwife, Dany,” Gilly smiled kindly at her, “To help women.”

Dany returned her smile.

“If you need anything, or have any worries, all you have to do is call, and if I cannot answer your questions, Dr. Aemon can,” Gilly assured her, resting a hand on her own pregnant belly. 

“Thank you,” Dany said once more. Gilly picked up her bag and started for the door.

“Shall I call Jon in?” Gilly asked before departing.

“Yes.”

Dany pulled the blankets up to her chin and curled into a ball on her side. She could hear Jon seeing Gilly out the front door, before she heard his footsteps come into the room. The bed dipped with his weight behind her, and then one of his strong hands was on her hip.

“What did Gilly say?” Jon asked, hesitantly.

“She said she found nothing overtly wrong, but she also said that she is not a doctor and an exam in our bedroom is a far cry different than an exam performed by a fertility specialist in a hospital.”

“We can plan a trip to Aberdeen or Edinburgh…”

“No,” Dany took his hand and pulled him to her until he was curled up against her back with his arm around her waist. He laid his head against hers, “We will keep doing what we’ve been doing and see if nature will take its course.” 

Jon pressed a kiss to her neck, and chuckled, obviously trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I cannot object to letting nature take it’s course.”

Dany giggled, and snuggled closer to him, feeling safe in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapters: Jon and Dany celebrate their wedding anniversary, preparing for the Harvest Festival, and mounting tension between Sansa and Dany


	20. Room Enough, pt 1 (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to get this chapter out of my head before I could get anywhere else on my other stories. I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Also, as I said before, Sansa and Dany's relationship in this story gets worse before it gets better. But I am a sucker for happy endings so I hope you can bear with me in their process. And if you really don't like Sansa, please no Sansa-hate in the comments, Sansa bashing is not the point of this story, as the title of this chapter suggests there is "Room Enough" to love both Dany and Sansa.

Jon had fallen asleep after loving her, and she lay in a still trembling, but sated heap beneath him, with his body still tucked between her legs. Dany stroked his hair absentmindedly, not wanting to move. When they had wed, while Dany had been quite ignorant, as most respectable girls were expected to be, of what happened behind the closed doors of a marriage, had of course heard whisperings and giggles and sometimes complaints of women about the appetites of their husbands, but most of all she had heard of duty. In a few days was their wedding anniversary, and Dany wondered if the man, whose head was pillowed against her breast, remembered. He had not said anything about it. She would not blame him if he did not remember, after all they had never been together before on their wedding anniversary, not even their first. Her mind drifted to their wedding night, and she smiled. Jon had confessed during their engagement that he had known a girl in his youth, and she had been his first. Dany, however, had been a virgin, and while trusting, somewhat nervous. The night had been filled with sweet words, some embarrassed fumbling, tender caresses, and a little pain, but most of all, as they had been together as man and wife for the very first time, there had been love. They had spent the better part of their first year exploring and learning how best to love each other. Jon had taken something that could have become a wearisome duty and turned it into a genuine pleasure. He was giving in their bed, and it made her eager to give in return. When a soft kiss was placed upon the side of her breast, Dany was shaken from her thoughts and looked down to see Jon’s eyes open. Dany smiled and massaged his scalp in a way that she hoped was soothing.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to fall asleep,” He whispered, “Am I crushing you?” He made to move but Dany held him to her.

“Don’t,” She smiled, bringing his head to rest upon her breasts once more, “You are keeping me warm.”

Jon chuckled, and pressed another kiss to the side of her breast, “Are you finding Scotland cold?”

“We are nearly to the artic,” Dany teased, and Jon laughed, before placing a kiss to her sternum. Dany looked down at him fondly. 

“Would you like me to warm you, wife?” His kind, dark eyes studied her with blatant desire. Dany reached for him and cupped his cheek with her hand.

“You are insatiable tonight,” She giggled.

“Yes,” He admitted happily as he placed another kiss against her skin. Another kiss fell to the swell of her breast, before his mouth captured her nipple. Dany gasped, her shoulders nearly lifting from the bed in response to the sharp pleasure that coursed through her as he sucked both firmly and tenderly. Dany threaded both of her hands through his hair and held him.

“I love your breasts,” He murmured.

“Oh…. I think that… mmm,” Dany writhed, trying to breath and talk under his ministrations, “I think that has long… oh…. long been established.”

Jon chuckled, and continued to mouth and suck at her breasts. She was certainly warm now, and she felt emotions constricting in her throat. Another firm suck nearly elicited a scream from her. She managed to catch herself before that scream escaped, however. He pulled off her breast, and she whimpered at the loss of his mouth though she kept her eyes squeezed shut. He smoothed back some of her hair.

“It’s alright to make sounds, darling,” He said, tenderly, “There’s no shame in it, and there’s no one around to hear.” 

“I know,” she snapped a bit harshly, it was not that she never made sounds in bed, but the ferocity of emotions welling up inside her, made her want to hide away. 

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern. Dany kept her eyes shut, feeling strangely overwhelmed, but she nodded. She felt the need to cry, but no tears would come. “Did I hurt you?” He asked. Dany reached down and stroked his hair, and she felt him lean into her hand, like Ghost might do.

"No…” She whispered, “No, it didn’t hurt… it’s just… I… it was…” unable to articulate her feelings she stopped trying, “I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I’m just… just feeling emotional… and I don’t know why.”

Jon pressed a tender kiss to her sternum, leaving her nipples alone for now, “You don’t have to apologize, Dany-love, this is emotional… it’s supposed to be.”

Dany nodded again, taking a breath, and Jon’s eyes were filled with concern. He lifted himself off of her and drew up to lay beside her, pulling her against his side as he did. Dany curled into him and wrapped her arm around his torso.

“I love you,” she whispered, burying her face against his chest.

He tightened his soothing hold on her, and kissed the top of her head, “I love you too.”

“I feel like there is something wrong with me,” Dany confessed in a broken whisper.

“There’s nothing wrong with you…” Jon started, but Dany interrupted.

“No, not in my body,” She said, “In my mind, and in my heart. Sometimes I feel like I am dead inside.”

Jon stroked her arm soothingly with one hand while the other threaded into her hair, holding her close. Dany took another steadying breath.

“I never told you…” She said, feeling half ashamed.

“Told me what, love?”

“Jon, I’ve not cried in so very long, so long I don’t remember when,” Dany absentmindedly touched her scar, “I… I… I had a friend… Missandei… I may have mentioned her in a letter or two.”

Jon nodded.

“One night there was an… an air raid… we were so close to the lines,” Dany held him tighter, not sure she could say the words, “And… and…there was a fire where we slept… And Missandei… she… I found her in the hospital…” 

Jon’s arms tightened around her, and he let her talk.

“And after I had no tears to cry…” Dany finished, unable to actually tell him the terrible truth. _Missandei was dead._ She had watched her die. The dearest friend she had ever had, perhaps the only true friend she had ever had outside of him, “The body count had gotten so high, I had seen so many die… and I cried for so many of them… but I did not have one bloody tear for the dearest friend I’ve ever had, whose soul was the purest I had ever met even after all we had seen, and all she had been through in life.”

“Dany-love,” Jon kissed the top of her head again, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Dany shook her head, not sure what to say, because still even at her confession no tears came to her eyes.

“One of my best mates in my unit,” Jon started, “Grenn… I told you before that I watched him die…” Jon’s voice was surprisingly even, perhaps their experiences had marred them the same?

“Yes,” Dany acknowledged.

“I didn’t tell you that he died because of me…” Jon confessed.

Dany looked up at him, and the brokenness in his eyes, mirrored the brokenness she felt in her own soul.

“On the beach, I fell,” Jon said with a huff of breath, “I had sand in my mouth and eyes, Grenn turned back to help me, and he was shot…”

“Jon that’s not your fault,” Dany said softly.

“No… not my fault…” Jon cleared his throat, “But it happened because of me…”

Dany held tight to him.

“Then after Robb…” Jon continued, “I could not help but wondered how it was that I made it through this ordeal alive… why is it that some die and some do not? God, Robb had a child…”

Dany felt her heart drop. _Did Jon count their lives less valuable for their lack of children?_ She knew the thought was preposterous, but still it tugged at her heart.

“I’m sorry for Robb, and for Grenn,” Dany whispered, and snuggled closer to him, clinging to him, “But please don’t ever leave me…” _He was all she had_.

“Never again, love,” Jon said, “Never again.”

* * *

The men were baling hay in the pasture in perfect view of the ladies who were sitting in the yard, assembling decorations for the upcoming harvest festival. Jon had his shirt off, and Dany was happily enjoying the view. She did not know if it was all Scottish men, or merely her husband, but he did not have the same qualms as the British men she knew, about showing his upper body. Dany could not find it within herself to complain, as she watched him help Ned Stark’s men bale the hay.

“Dany, you ought to be ashamed,” Jeyne’s teasing voice laughed, “Ogling your husband in the plain sight of everyone.”

Dany smiled, “Well, he is mine to ogle.”

All the married ladies sitting in the circle twittered with amusement. Dany had not met all of the ladies that Sansa and Catelyn had invited up to the house today to make decorations for the harvest festival.

“So Daenerys,” said one woman in a conspiratorial whisper for her ears alone, “Have you and Jon any plans for children?”

Dany bristled. All the ladies in the circle had children except for her and Sansa. Dany knew this put her in an odd category. She was without children, but she had a husband. The older ladies did not patronize her the same as they did Sansa, and yet there was an air about many of them that showed that they did not quite know how to interact with a married woman without children. Afterall, it was expected, especially among the older generations, that a healthy marriage should produce children.

“Jon and I are still getting settled and reacquainted after being apart for so long,” Dany explained trying to be patient, “I’m sure babies will come soon enough,” Dany caught sweet Gilly’s eye, who gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure,” The nosy woman gave a curt smile and went back to her crafts.

Sighing, Dany stood and went inside to refill her cup of tea. She found Sansa scrubbing dishes in the big kitchen.

“Couldn’t stomach anymore gossip, I take it?” Sansa chuckled, “Nor could I.”

“I do believe they have finally run out of gossip,” Dany said with a smile.

“That’s when you really should be concerned,” Sansa said, surprisingly pleasant, “That’s when they start asking intrusive personal questions.”

Dany chuckled, surprised by how perceptive Sansa was, “Yes, I’ve already had a few of those.”

“Let me guess,” Sansa said, continued to scrub, “When are you having children?”

Laughing, Dany nodded, “How did you know?”

“Because every time they see me, they ask me when I’m getting married,” Sansa said, “They don’t seem one bit concerned that there isn’t a lad hereabouts for me to wed.”

Dany studied Sansa, “What of young Podrick?”

Sansa stiffened, “What did Jon tell you?”

Taken completely aback, Dany stammered, “Jon didn’t tell me anything… I met Pod… the day we… I milked the cows… I just thought you and he…”

“No,” Sansa said simply but emphatically.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed…”

“Well, don’t.”

“I won’t,” Dany snapped, trying to reign in her anger. 

“Fine,” Sansa retorted.

Sighing, Dany refilled her teacup in tense silence, before asking, “Is there any other preparations I can help you with for the harvest festival?”

“No,” Sansa said tersely, “You don’t know our traditions anyway.”

Dany tried not to be angry, but was failing, “Are you sure?” Dany asked, “I don’t care much for idleness, and right now, what with me still learning how to run the farm with Jon, I have some time on my hands.”

“Well, maybe you should rest,” Sansa replied.

“I don’t rest well, not since the war,” Dany snapped.

“I don’t think many do,” said Sansa with a roll of her eyes as she threw the rag in the sink.

“And what do you know of it? You’ve been up here in your ivory tower, knitting by the fire and planning festivals, while the rest of the world was fighting and dying,” Dany knew her temper was getting the better of her but the words kept tumbling out of her mouth, “What do you know about what the rest of the world has suffered?”

Sansa turned her cool gaze on Dany, and Dany envied her frigid composure. They were like fire and ice staring at each other in the Stark’s kitchen. Without a word in response, Sansa swept out of the kitchen, leaving Dany still fuming. She stood there staring at Sansa’s wake, before plopping down in a kitchen chair and drinking her tea in defeat, and then put her cup down realizing how very British drowning her sorrows in a cup of tea was in this foreign Scotland she had found herself in.

The kitchen door opened, and the very shirtless Jon walked in to retrieve water. He smiled at her.

“Sansa is insufferable,” Dany could not help but snap. He looked surprised by her outburst.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I’ve tried to be friendly, tried to share some of my experiences with her, but she shuts me down every time!” Dany felt like throwing her teacup against a wall and was a little distraught that she could do no such thing.

“Do you want me to say something to her?” Jon asked, with a frown upon his face.

“No, no,” Dany sighed and took his hand, “That would just make her think I’m complaining about her behind her back, which I guess I am, but she and I will have to work this out, there is room enough for us both on this mountain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Room Enough, pt 2, (Jon POV)
> 
> Part of what I am hoping to achieve with the Dany and Sansa plot, is to show how different women experienced the war in different ways. Hopefully, this will come across as we progress through the plot.


	21. Room Enough pt 2 (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is apparently going to be in 3 parts, mainly because I am still deciding whose POV to use for the rest of the events. I'm not sure how this chapter turned out, but I hope everyone enjoys! Anyway, thanks everyone for reading and for your encouraging comments! 
> 
> I'll get the next chapters in all my stories out as soon as I can!

“How are you and Daenerys settling in?” Tyrion asked Jon from behind store counter. Jon tucked his pocket watch back in his pocket.

“Quite well,” Jon said, having no intention of discussing his and Dany’s personal life with Tyrion Lannister, no matter how long he had known him. 

Tyrion chuckled, “If you were anymore verbose, Snow, I’m afraid you’d strain your tongue.”

Jon smiled, he had always liked Tyrion, but had not always known what to say to the quick-witted, little man. 

“Here is your mail,” Tyrion handed him a few letters.

“And the last item?” Jon asked, “You did say it would be here today.”

“Aye, I did,” Tyrion brought out another package, “And a Lannister always pays his debts.”

Jon chuckled and rolled his eyes, not sure they could call their exchange a debt, before he took the package and opened it, pulling out a silver chain.

“Will it do?” Tyrion asked. Jon touched the sparking silver chain and nodded.

“Aye, it will do,” Jon took his wallet and opened a little zippered pocket and from it he pulled a chainless locket. It had belonged to Dany’s mother, he knew, and though the chain he and Tyrion had been able to procure for it was not nearly as expensive as the finery that had once hung around Rhaella Targaryen’s neck, it was elegant and durable. Jon was not sure what Dany had imagined happened to it, but she had not asked about it. He had found it in the pocket of one of her dresses that he had managed to salvage from their home in London, but the chain had been broken. He had honestly forgotten he had tucked it away in his wallet until a couple of weeks ago, at which time he had decided to purchase a new chain for it before giving it back to her on their anniversary tomorrow. Jon was not sure if she remembered it was their anniversary, as she had not said anything about it, and he would not blame her. They had never been together on their anniversary before, and so even if she did not remember, he thought it important to mark the occasion.

“Thank you,” Jon finally said to Tyrion, before wrapping the delicate chain and locket in the package, “Will you and Jaime come to the festival tonight?”

“Aye, we always do, that is back before the war,” Tyrion grinned, “You know, back when Jaime still had two hands, and I was unfortunately no taller.”

“Well, I’ll see you both there then,” Jon said, “And if Jaime needs a…”

“A hand?” Tyrion seemed amused with himself.

“If Jaime needs me to put up anymore shelving in the back, just let me know,” Jon said, ignoring Tyrion’s japes. Tyrion only chuckled and bid him goodbye, as Jon left the store.

Jon was tucking away the mail, and the few items he had purchased for Dany in a bag, when he nearly walked into Dr. Aemon on the road toward the library.

“Dr. Aemon, what are you doing out and about?” Jon asked pleasantly. 

“I’m old not dead, lad,” Aemon chuckled, “I may be losing my sight, but I’ve not lost all my wits.”

Jon smiled, “Can I walk you home?”

“You may, I’d be glad of the company,” Aemon said, and took Jon’s arm to steady himself, “I do believe you’ve gotten taller.”

Jon laughed, “Well, considering I was little more than a boy when I left Wintertown, I should hope I got taller.”

“You know, I remember the day you were born,” Aemon smiled sadly, "I delivered you." 

“Aye,” Jon sighed.

“Your precious mother…” Aemon’s voice nearly broke, “Each loss has taken a part of me… but she was one of the hardest...”

Jon swallowed hard. He did not often discuss his mother with anyone, in fact Jon had not discussed his mother with anyone in years. Whenever Jon imagined his mother, whom he had never known, she was beautiful and elegant with eyes that only held kindness. All he had ever heard of his mother, from those who knew and loved her, only confirmed his imaginings. Ned Stark had loved Jon’s mother dearly, and Jon had to wonder how it was that love endured and extended to himself, when his birth had taken Lyanna from this world.

“She was a dear girl,” Aemon continued, and patted Jon’s arm, “And I see her heart in you… brave and gentle, you always have been even when you were a boy.”

“I wish I could have known her,” Jon confessed.

“She would have been proud of you,” Aemon said, “And she would have adored young Dany.”

Jon smiled.

“How is your sweet, young bride?” Aemon asked as they reached the library steps.

“She seems to have settled in quite well,” Jon said.

“I was afraid she may have been unsettled after assisting me last,” Aemon said.

“She did not say anything,” Jon said, concerned.

“She is a gifted nurse, but I do understand her reluctance to continue.”

“I thought she was enjoying assisting you with nursing duties,” Jon was even more confused. Dany had seemed to have taken to Aemon and helping him with nursing. She had not said anything about it upsetting her.

“In the past, women’s battles had lain mostly in the birthing bed,” Aemon said thoughtfully, “But the world has changed and is changing still, some things for good and some for bad. War to the scale that you and Dany have seen have broken even the strongest of souls.”

Jon understood that all to well. He ran a hand through his hair, “How can I help her?” was all Jon could think to ask. He wanted Dany to be happy and he wanted Dany to feel safe here. He did not want her to have to worry for anything again. 

“What is the only balm for a broken heart?” Aemon asked, cryptically.

Jon did not know.

“Love, Jon Snow.”

* * *

All the way home Jon pondered Aemon’s words and when he opened the door to their cottage, which was beginning to look more and more like a home, he was greeted by Ghost and their lamb at the door. He found Dany in their kitchen, humming to herself, with her frilly little apron tied around her waist, making him smile as he remembered the day he had first seen her wear it. He came up behind her, putting his hands on her hips, and kissed her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. _Love, Jon Snow_.

“Hello,” Dany leaned back into him.

“Hello,” Jon said, kissing that particularly sweet spot on her neck once more.

“Did you get what I asked for?”

Jon indicated the bag he had set down on the table.

“Thank you,” she said and started to move from his arms, when he did release her she looked up at him, and Jon grinned fondly at her. She had a bit of flour smudged across her cheek.

“What are you making?” He asked.

“A cake,” She said proudly. Jon laughed.

“I did not know you knew how to make a cake.”

“I know how to make a cake,” She said in playful irritation, starting to move from the circle of his arms again, but Jon nipped at her neck once more and kept her close.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Dany asked with a saucy grin.

“Don’t I get a reward for succeeding in my mission?” Jon teased.

“And just what kind of reward did you have in mind?” Dany teased right back. Jon pretended to reflect for a moment.

“A kiss?” He asked, and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“It all starts with a kiss, mister, and then you’ll want another, and then before we even know what we are doing, you’ll have me on the floor with my knickers down around my knees,” She scolded, and Jon roared with laughter.

“That would not be so bad, would it?” He asked, kissing into her hair, and holding her to him.

“If I did not have a cake to bake,” Dany teased, giving his arm a playful smack.

“At least a kiss?”

“A kiss,” Dany smiled and turned in his arms, wrapping her slight arms around his neck. Jon leaned in and kissed her, holding her to him and never wanting to let go. “Tonight…” She whispered, with a meaningful look in her eyes. Jon kissed her eye lids, and then her mouth softly once more.

“Aye, tonight.”

* * *

Music wafted through the air, as Jon and Dany strolled up to the big house. He wondered if it was Sansa playing the fiddle in such a lively fashion. When they entered the yard, people were gathered, some of the dearest faces he knew, and some the faces of strangers, and some he had not seen in years. People were laughing. People were dancing. People were behaving as if not only a few short months ago the world had not been at war. _Life went on_, Jon thought, and glanced at Dany who was smiling as she took in the scene. He saw Sam chasing Little Sam across the yard. Roslin Tully cradled her new baby against her breast. Sansa and Pod stole glances at each other across the crowd. Ned and Cat were dancing to the fiddle being played by Jeor Mormont whose wounded leg was propped up on a cushion. Jon looked at Dany once more. _Love went on_. Somewhere in the pasture a gunshot sounded, indicating the start of game or another, and Jon found himself startled, his heart racing. Dany squeezed his hand reassuringly, and when he looked down at her, all he saw was understanding… and love. _Love, Jon Snow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Room Enough, pt 3 (The harvest festival, Jon gives Dany her anniversary gift, and some more 1940's sexy times)


	22. Surprises (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there are numerous typos, I proofread this while I was half asleep. 
> 
> This chapter picks up immediately where the last one left off. I hope everyone enjoys!

The gunshot signaling the start of some game or other was loud and Dany felt Jon flinch at the sound. She squeezed his hand, hoping it was reassuring. When he turned to her and smiled, she was struck with how handsome he was. As promised, he was wearing his kilt, as were many of the men in the yard of the big house.

“You look rather fetching in your kilt, just so you know,” Dany giggled.

“Is that so, Mrs. Snow?” Jon pulled her by the hand against his side and kissed the top of her head.

“You had better not be getting frisky ideas while we are standing here in front of all these people,” Dany scolded playfully. Jon’s eyes seemed to darken as he gazed at her.

“My thoughts are a touch more than frisky,” He admitted, and Dany felt her cheeks blush. Jon smiled at her and cupped her cheek in his palm. “I’m glad I can still make you blush,” He whispered as they ignored the rest of the world going on around them.

“I’m not sure it is a very flattering color on me,” Dany chuckled, the intensity of his gaze made her feel like he could see straight through her.

“Anything is a flattering color on you, Dany-love,” Jon laughed.

“Hardly,” Dany smirked, and Jon wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Dance with me?” He asked.

“I don’t know how,” Dany said, as she studied the other dancers dancing a reel.

“It’s alright,” Jon laughed, “I’m rubbish at dancing so no one will know the difference. Laughing, Dany allowed Jon to lead her into the crowd of dancers.

The world spun on around them as they danced and looked into each other eyes. Time slowed, and the world was only a fading whisper in the background of the world they had created all on their own. Only him. Only her. Dany found herself laughing, as she had not laughed in years as Jon twirled her and spun her around the yard. They were almost certainly making fools of themselves, neither of them being prone to grace nor poise, but it did not matter. For what they lacked, they made up for in love and enjoyment of each other. They always had, _maybe the war had not changed everything after all? _When the song faded, the world crashed back inside their bubble, and Jon pulled Dany, laughing and breathless, against his chest.

“See, no one knew the difference,” Jon smiled at her.

“Or perhaps they are just too kind to mock,” Dany wrapped her arms around his waist.

Jon chuckled, and kissed the top of her head, “Maybe.”

“Dany,” came Roslin’s voice, interrupting them, and Dany looked up to see Roslin cradling her baby against her breast, strangely with Theon Greyjoy lingering nearby.

“How is the little one doing?” Dany asked, and watched as Jon, with a look of reverence on his face, leaned over and touched the infant’s chubby little cheek. Her heart twisted.

“Oh, the little man is doing quite well, I just wanted to say thank you for the meals you have sent up for me,” Roslin smiled.

“It was my pleasure,” Dany said, though she knew the meals she had sent were quite simple. Dany had a very small range of cooking abilities. She touched the baby’s tiny hand.

“Do you want to hold him?” Roslin offered, as she seemed to notice Dany staring wistfully at the baby. Dany felt Jon’s hand resting soothingly on her lower back. Dany nodded, and Roslin very gently gave her the infant. He wiggled for a moment, seeming to sense he was no longer in his mother’s arm before settling once more. Dany held him close, and then looked up at Jon who was studying her with a concerned look on his face. She wished he would not look at her that way. He worried over her far too much.

“He’s a handsome lad,” Jon told Roslin after a moment of silence.

“Thank you, Jon.”

“How are you feeling? Have you quite recovered?” Dany asked.

“The recovery takes some time,” Roslin said, softly, “But it was worth it… as I’m sure you will know soon enough.”

Dany smiled sadly at Roslin, “Yes, soon enough, I’m sure.”

Jon stroked her back, as she continued to rock the baby.

“Would you two ladies like something to drink?” Jon asked. “I’ll have some tea,” Dany said.

“Water would be lovely Jon, thank you,” Roslin said, in her gracious way. Jon strode off clapping Theon on the shoulder and drawing the young man to the drink table with him.

“Did Theon come to the party with you?” Dany asked, curiously.

“We walked up together,” Roslin explained with a sweet smile, “He’s been helping me manage the farm until I’ve fully recovered, Catelyn sent him down.”

Dany smiled, and said nothing in response, not wanting to turn into one of those gossipy old ladies who was too much in the habit of asking intrusive personal questions. Just then the baby started to cry. Roslin reached for him.

“I best take him inside,” she said, “He’s likely hungry.”

Dany nodded and gave the infant back to his mother.

“They are ravenous at this age,” Roslin chuckled, and Dany could only watch wistfully as Roslin took the infant away. Dany stood there alone for a moment, unsure what to do with herself as she looked around the yard at people enjoying themselves. Jon returned a moment later and handed her a cup of tea.

“Where did Roslin run off to?” Jon asked.

“The baby needed feeding,” Dany explained, trying to sound casual. Reaching out, Jon touched her arm, and he had that sad look upon his face once more. “I’m fine, Jon.”

“I know,” He said softly, though he looked like he did not quite believe her.

“We’re fine,” She said emphatically, as she looked up at him. He kissed her forehead.

“Yes, we’re fine,” He agreed. Dany looked away from him and caught sight once more of Podrick and Sansa, who were making eyes at each other from across the yard. She smiled sadly and wondered what it was that was pulling them away from each other. Podrick had spoken so fondly of Sansa, giving Dany the impression that the two were on much more intimate terms than Sansa had intimated a few days ago.

“Are Sansa and Podrick sweet on each other?” Dany asked Jon softly, so that no one else in the yard could hear.

“Yes, but best not ask either of them that,” Jon said with an almost sad chuckle.

“What stops them from being with each other?” Dany could not help but question. It was the twentieth century, after all, surely her being the daughter of landed Lord could not be such an insurmountable obstacle? Dany looked at Jon and remembered her own father’s ire when she had announced to him that she intended to marry a Jon, a student, with nothing save Scotland to his name. Eddard Stark, though, was no Aerys Targaryen, surely, he wanted his daughter to be happy.

“I think they keep themselves from each other,” Jon said with his characteristic unassuming but sage wisdom, “Sansa has not been treated gently in the past.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jon’s grey eyes were filled with grief, “Let’s save sadness for another night.”

Dany took his hand.

“Tonight, let it just be you and me,” Jon asked kissed her hand, “It is a rather special night after all.”

Dany chuckled, “Is it?”

“Tomorrow it will be six years since we wed,” Jon said, and Dany looked up at him. _He remembered. _They stared at each other, both no doubt trying not to ponder the fact that they had been together for less than two of those six years.

“Soon I suppose, we will be considered an old married couple,” Jon grinned at her.

“Never, we will always be young and in love,” Dany laughed, trying to lighten the heaviness that seemed to come upon them so suddenly. Jon tucked her securely against his side.

“No,” He whispered, and Dany was not sure what to make of that, but he did not leave her confused for long. He looked over at Cat and Ned who were gazing lovingly at each other. “I would not wish for our love to remain young, when old love is even sweeter,” He looked into her eyes, “I would never wish away the chance to grow old with you, Dany-love.” 

* * *

The party had waned, and the night grew old as the northern lights above them danced. Many of the guests had departed, leaving only family a few very dear friends. Sansa played a mournful tune on the violin, and Dany reclined back against Jon, who was leaning against a haybale. Dany noticed a scar on his knee that she had never noticed before. Six years married, and sometimes he still felt so new. She did not quite know his body as a woman long married would know the body of her husband. She trusted his heart but did not know his mind.

“What are you thinking of?” Dany whispered to him, for his ears alone.

“How much I wish Robb and Arya were here,” Jon’s voice was wistful and Dany thought her heart might, “On nights like these Robb used to play the bagpipes while Sansa’s played the fiddle, and Arya mocked them both for skills she had never been able to develop herself,” He smiled at the recollection. Dany did not know what to say, and only watched as Jon’s family… her family… quietly milled around the yard. Jeyne was gathering Neddy into her arms and carrying him into the big house to put him to bed.

“Little Neddy will never know his father,” Jon said softly, the pain in Jon’s voice broke her._ Had Jon had time to grieve Robb, the man who had been both his cousin and brother?_ Dany doubted it. _When would they have had time to truly grieve when the war raged on?_

“I’m glad I have you,” Dany whispered in a broken voice. Jon took her hand.

“Let’s go home, love,” He kissed the top of her head and Dany nodded in agreement.

Their somberness soon turned to playfulness once more as they walked across the pastures toward their home. Both not wishing to dwell on the past, Jon grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close.

“Do you remember our wedding night?” He asked, with a chuckle, holding her tightly to him. Dany grinned but blushed at the memory.

“Yes,” Dany put her arm around his waist giving his kilted backside a playful pat as she did, “I was not entirely convinced that you knew where to put it.”

He laughed, “I knew.”

“You certainly did,” Dany said softly, her cheeks flushed at the memory of their first time together as husband and wife. Suddenly, Jon tickled her side, making her laugh and squirm away from him.

“Come back here,” He grinned at her.

“No, not if you are going to tickle me,” Dany retorted with a saucy smile.

“I won’t,” Jon promised.

“I don’t believe you,” Dany felt her heart lighten again, as she started to hasten her pace, planning a dash toward home.

“I intend to do a far sight more than tickle you when we make it home,” Jon said laughing. Dany gave him an impish grin.

“You would have to catch me first,” She dared and sprinted off in the direction of their cottage, and in the dark she could hear Jon laughing and chasing after her. Dany could just make out the outline of their cottage when Jon caught her around the waist and hauled her against him, both laughing. Jon whirled her around, and picked her up, without ceremony, and slung her over his shoulder while stocking toward the house. Dany laughed and swatted his backside, only making him laugh louder.

“Cheeky girl,” He scolded teasingly, and gave her backside a light smack as well.

“This is very uncouth, sir,” Dany giggled from her position over his shoulder.

“You and your fancy words,” Jon shook his head, one of his hands now resting affectionately on her rump as he carried her over his shoulder all the way home. Dany did not protest.

When they made it inside, Jon threw her gently upon the bed, and rid himself of his shirt. Their gazes were locked together. Dany scooted back, as Jon reached down and removed each of her shoes for her. He kissed her knee, then stalked up after her on the bed. Jon hovered above her on all fours, before leaning down and nuzzling his nose against hers. Dany smiled and caressed his bearded cheek.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” He whispered gruffly.

“Happy Anniversary,” said Dany with the softest of smiles. Reaching for his waist, Dany urged him to lower his body atop hers, and he smiled and obeyed. For a few moments they lay there staring at each other, Jon’s body pressed against hers, as she stroked her hands up and down his back. Jon smoothed back some of her hair. Dany kissed him.

“My view may be exceptionally uninformed due to lack of experience,” Dany chuckled, as their lips parted, “But I do believe you are a very good at kissing.”

“Why thank you, Mrs. Snow,” He laughed while pressing a kiss against her neck.

“You’re welcome,” Dany reached down and rucked her skirt up a bit before wrapping her legs around Jon’s waist and kiss him again. He groaned, making more giggles erupt from Dany’s mouth. “Is something wrong, husband?” Dany feigned innocence.

Jon looked at her and the warmth in his eyes could melt winter.

“Jon…” Dany whispered, smoothing some of his dark curls.

“Yes, Dany-love?”

“I want to give you a baby,” the words tumbled out, nearly cracking her heart open. Jon threaded his fingers through her hair, loosening her braid. He kissed her soundly.

“All in good time, love, all in good time.”

* * *

When morning dawned, Dany had found herself alone in bed, exhausted and with a sweet ache between her legs from being loved vigorously and more than once throughout the night. She giggled, as she put on a kettle of tea. _Perhaps Jon was just as eager as she for a babe?_

“Hello, my darlings,” Dany kissed the top of Ghost’s head and put down some food for him, while the lamb bleated for his bottle. The poor little lamb was soon to be on solid foods and would need to be permanently outside. She scratched the little creature’s head. 

“You poor little thing,” Dany said to him, and the lamb bleated in response to her voice, “One day we will have to put you outside and keep you there.”

Another bleat. Ghost frolicked over and tried to scramble into Dany’s lamb. A lamb and wolf, a more unlikely friendship had rarely been seen. Dany looked up when she heard the front door open. Jon strode in with the mail in his hand and a small package.

“I have tea on,” she said and watched him curiously as he grinned at her. He sat the small package on the table. Dany joined him, as he took out a newspaper to read and lay a small pile of letters in front of them. “What is this?” Dany picked up the small package.

“Its for you,” He said.

“Who’s it from?”

“It’s your anniversary gift,” Jon replied with a proud grin.

“My anniversary gift?”

“Aye.”

“Can I open it?”

He chuckled, “Aye.”

With tentative fingers, Dany untied the strings of the little package, feeling guilty that she had not gotten him anything, but she still was not used to anniversaries. Jon watched her expectantly. Dany opened the package and pulled out a delicate silver chain…attached to her mother’s locket. She gasped… words dying on her lips. Jon’s eyes turned from pride to concern, the longer the silence stretched on. Dany’s throat constricted.

“I thought it was lost,” she whispered. Jon reached out and touched her cheek.

“It very nearly was,” he confessed.

“How did you find it?”

“It was in the pocket of one of your dresses… at the old house…”

Dany felt her eyes sting. Jon’s kind eyes studied her.

“It’s the only thing I have… of… of hers…” Dany said, feeling heart breaking in the sweetest of ways. Dany knew very little of her mother, who died upon her birth. She had always missed that motherly connection though she tried to console herself with the thought that she did not actually know what she was missing. Viserys had always blamed her for her mother’s death. Aerys, though he cared little for her mother, had blamed Dany too, for memories are always sweeter in retrospect. Dany had only wanted to know her.

“Is the chain alright, love? It’s different from the original,” Jon explained evenly.

“Its perfect,” she whispered, and he smiled. Dany stood and threw herself into his arms, clinging desperately to him, as actual tears stung the back of her eyes. None fell, but something inside her seemed to be melting. Jon stroked her back as she held onto him.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” He finally asked after a long silence. Dany nodded and turned around. Jon smoothed back her hair gently and clasped the delicate chain around her neck. Dany looked down at the locket sitting against her chest, the one link to her mother. As she studied it, her eyes caught one of the letters Jon had set upon the table. She recognized the handwriting, and it was certainly addressed to her. Dany felt her stomach lurch. She reached for the letter in shock.

“Viserys…”

“What?” Jon questioned, obviously taken aback. Dany showed him the letter.

“This is from Viserys.” 


	23. Families Are Difficult (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter with an ample amount of angst, a little bit of sexy times, and I hope a few smiles. Thank you everyone for reading and for your encouraging comments! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
> 
> Also, I have a little extra time this weekend, so I'm trying really hard to get the next chapters out on my other two stories as well, thank you all for hanging in there with me!

_Sweet sister_, the letter began, and Dany cringed. Viserys had never been kind to her and had never expressed the kind of brotherly love and devotion that Dany had recently witnessed amongst the Starks. She tried hard to fight bitterness toward him but was not always successful. Jon was sitting in the chair behind her.

“What does he want?” Jon put his hands on her hips, urging her to sit down in his lap. Dany sat and he read the letter over her shoulder

“Aerys is ill, and apparently has been ill for a while,” Dany said softly, “Viserys says he’s dying.”

Jon nodded against her shoulder.

“Why is he telling me this?” Dany mused aloud, as she slammed the letter down on the table. Jon wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck.

“They wanted nothing to do with me,” Dany continued, as Jon started to stroke her hair, “Aerys quite literally threw me out of the house when I told him I was going to marry you.”

Jon kissed her neck again.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I was trying to listen,” Jon said with a chuckle.

“I’m long past caring what happens to Aerys,” Dany said with a huff and tried to stand. Jon kept her in his lap. His strong hand stroked her stomach. “Are you going to let me up?” She said with a smile.

He sighed softly and kissed her shoulder, “Daenerys, he is still your father.”

“Well, when he threw me out, he quite emphatically told me that I was not his daughter,” Dany rolled her eyes. She felt Jon nod and kiss her shoulder once more. “You know what he was like.”

“I know,” Jon said gently, and Dany did not like his tone.

“Why are you saying it like that?” Dany wrenched herself free from his arms and stood up.

“I’m not saying it any way,” Jon insisted.

“I don’t care if he’s dying, Jon,” Dany snapped, going to take the kettle off the stove for their breakfast. Jon only nodded. “Are you not going to say anything?”

“No,” Jon said.

“Why not?” Dany put a teacup forcefully in front of Jon.

“Because I don’t want to argue on our anniversary,” He said flatly. Dany sat down in the chair opposite him and they stared at each other. She did not want to fight on their anniversary either, but it seemed that a gauntlet had been set down.

“And why would we fight?” Dany asked.

“Not today,” He reiterated, and Dany took a drink of her tea.

“Did you read the whole letter?” Dany asked.

“Aye.”

“Then you know Viserys is asking me to come to London,” Dany said.

“Aye.”

“I’m not going,” Dany snapped, irritability. He stared at her. “Please stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” Jon asked, now sounding irritable himself.

“Like you understand everything that is going on inside my head and trying not to say anything about it, trying not to scold me.”

“I’m not going to scold you; you are not a child.”

“He was never the father he should have been,” Dany continued.

“I know that, Dany-love,” Jon said sympathetically as he reached for her hand. She did not want to hold his hand right now.

“He was a cruel man, and I don’t imagine he’s changed at all since last we saw him.”

“Probably not,” Jon said sadly.

“I was always blamed for my mother dying… always,” Dany snapped, now standing up and pacing the kitchen, “I imagine if they could have contrived a way, they would have blamed me for Rhaegar’s death too.”

Jon’s eyes were dark and sad, “Daenerys you are not responsible for anyone’s death.”

Dany turned away from him, and she heard him stand up and come and stand behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder. Dany touched her mother’s locket that Jon had hung around her neck only a moments ago.

“You have only brought life, everywhere you go,” He said in that gentle way that he had, “When I met you and married you, you brought life to me… and during the war… even if you did not feel like it all the time, you brought life.”

Dany looked down at the floor.

“What your father and brother said and did to you does not define you,” He continued.

“I don’t want to talk about them anymore,” Dany whispered, “We have chores to do.”

She heard Jon sigh, “Yes, we have chores to do,” He urged her to turn around and face him, and when she looked up at him, he gave her a gentle smile and kissed her softly on the mouth. She kissed him in return before turning her attention to the stove, and she listened to Jon’s footsteps as he exited the house. _Jon had never known his father, what did he know about dealing with fathers?_

* * *

Jon was out checking on the sheep one last time before bed, and so Dany was fidgeting around their bedroom waiting for him. She loosened her hair, and allowed it to hang free and loose down her back in soft waves, in the way she knew that Jon liked. She was sorry that they had been irritable with each other this morning, and though they had had a lovely supper together, she wanted to ensure that they did not end their anniversary being cross with each other. She sat down on the foot of the bed, waiting for him in her white nightgown, and she smoothed her hands across the silken fabric. The front door opened and Dany heard his footsteps coming toward the bedroom. When he opened the door, he smiled at her, in that special way that always managed to make her heart skip... the love he had for her always so apparent in his somber grey eyes. He came over to her, and she looked up at him and smiled, before reaching for the buttons on his pants. He chuckled, and tucked some hair back behind her ear, before he pulled his shirt over his head, leaving his torso bare. 

"Eager?" He asked with a mischievous grin. Dany finished unbuttoning his pants and pressed a kiss to his hard stomach, and felt it quiver. 

"Always," she whispered and looked up at him. He brought both his hands to cup her cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs across her cheekbones. 

"I love you...always," He kissed her forehead. 

"I love you," Dany whispered, her heart thumping hard against her chest. Jon shuffled out of his pants, and knelt on the ground in front of her. They stared at each other. Jon put his hands on her knees. Dany took a breath and smiled at him as he gently pushed her legs apart, drawing her nightgown up as he did. He chuckled, when he realized that she was wearing nothing beneath her nightgown. 

"You really are eager," He said with a grin as he stroked his thumb across her most sensitive place, causing her to gasp softly. Dany grinned down at him, and drew her legs back and open, in what she imagined was a little bit of a wanton way, but she did not care about propriety right now. She just wanted her husband. Her Jon. 

"Lay back," He said softly. Dany obeyed and smiled. Jon hovered above her and placed a gentle kiss against her belly. 

"Bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh," He whispered, making Dany laugh. 

"I don't know how I feel about you quoting scripture to me when I'm quite naked," She giggled, her face blushing furiously.

Jon laughed, and kissed her stomach again, "Well, I'm sure Adam felt quite the same way I do about you, the first time he saw Eve." 

Dany laughed again, and reached down trying to pull him close to her, "Shut up, Jon." 

He needed no further prompting, as he ducked his head between her thighs, and made her moan. Dany fisted her hand into his hair, and felt her hips buck, and his hands pressed against her to steady her. He was firm and coaxing and sweet, and Dany felt herself coming apart under his ministrations.

When she came back into the moment, sagging into the bed, they smiled at each other and she giggled. 

"Do you intend to stay down there all night?" She teased, breathlessly.

"I do not, I intend to know you in the biblical sense," Jon said firmly causing Dany to laugh at his playfulness, until he was over her and pushing inside her. Dany wrapped her legs around his waist, and clung desperately to him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her close, and Dany thought she could melt straight through the bed at his tenderness. He held her, as if he was afraid he would loose her. 

"Oh..." She whimpered softly against his hair after a particularly firm thrust caused her toes to curl, "Jon..."

He groaned against her hair, before looking into her eyes, "I'm going to give you a baby, Dany-love." 

* * *

Late that night, Dany watched as Jon slept fitfully beside her. She did not think he knew that she was aware of how poorly he slept. His nightmares kept her up, just as much as her own.

“Jon,” Dany whispered, and reached out and touched his hair wanting to comfort. She did not want to startle him, but sometimes his mumbling and his thrashing made her nervous. “Jon,” she said again, a little louder. Dany had heard stories of men suffering from battle fatigue and shell shock not knowing what they are doing while they were having an episode. The last time she had suggested he had battle fatigue, he had denied it so vehemently that Dany had never brought it up again. She continued to stroke his hair, sometimes that would settle him and sometimes it would not. Suddenly and forcefully, Jon sat straight up in bed, startling Dany and causing her to recoil toward the headboard. He was breathing heavy and his eyes were wide open as if he did not immediately know where he was. Then she saw the tension in his shoulders start to relax, and he turned slowly toward her.

“Dany-love, I’m sorry…” He started, looking so guilt stricken that Dany’s heart broke for him.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Jon,” Dany whispered, and he reached toward her and took her hand.

“Then why are you huddled against the headboard, so far away from me?” He asked sadly.

“You startled me is all, Jon,” Dany said, hoping her voice was kind and understanding. She moved closer to him and ran her fingers through his soft, dark curls, “You were thrashing about in your sleep again.” She was not going to tell him how often that his nightmares woke her in the night. Dany lay back down and urged him, to lay with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you,” He whispered as he placed a kiss against her hair.

“I’m not frightened of you, Jon,” Dany turned in the bed to face him, “I know you would never hurt me.”

He looked like he might have tears in his eyes, as he held her closer.

“I just wish you could have some peace at night,” Dany said, as she placed her hand over his brave and gentle heart, “The war is over, and yet it seems we both still fight it.”

“Sometimes it feels right that I should not have any peace,” Jon confessed brokenly.

“What do you mean?” Dany asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I ended so many lives…” Jon whispered, his arms holding tighter, “I tried to rationalize it during the war, telling myself that I was saving innocent lives, or that if I did not kill them, they would kill me, but it never took away the guilt I felt at the end of the day.”

Dany wrapped her arms around him and kissed his chest, “You have a good heart, Jon Snow, and you did not let them take it from you… but you have to stop blaming yourself.”

Jon only nodded and leaned down and kissed her mouth, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

* * *

Dany and Gilly sat in the main room of Dany and Jon’s cottage. Gilly had been showing Dany how to knit, while Sam and Jon were outside, doing whatever it was men did when their women were not around. They were all to have supper together. The meal was in their untrustworthy stove now. Dany glanced over at Gilly. Her pregnant belly seemed much more evident than it was the last time Dany had seen her. Gilly reached out and took Dany’s hand and put it on her belly, and Dany felt the baby kick.

“He’s been very active recently.”

“He?” Dany asked, “How do you know he’s a boy?”

“I just have a sense,” Gilly smiled, “I knew Little Sam was a boy.”

Dany chuckled, and looked over at the happy toddler who was playing with Ghost, “When will he come then?”

“I think sometime in December,” Gilly replied.

“Are you nervous to give birth way out here instead of near a hospital?” Dany asked.

“No,” Gilly smiled, “Its normal for the women here to give birth at home… and besides Dr. Aemon is here and he has delivered hundreds of babies.”

Dany nodded. She felt guilty that she had not spoken to Aemon since she told him that she could not nurse for him anymore. _Had she made the right decision? _She was not sure. She only knew that patching Jeor Mormont’s leg up reminded her far too much of the war and had panicked. _But maybe she needed to be braver? To face her fears?_

“You can be there if you want,” Gilly said.

“Be there?”

“For the birth,” Gilly explained.

“You’d want me there?” Dany was surprised. She was happy that she and Gilly’s friendship was growing but being present at a birth seemed very personal. _Perhaps she was taken aback because, aside from sweet Missandei, she had never really had a genuine friend?_

“You’re my friend and it’s always good to have support,” Gilly smiled. Dany felt her heart lighten, the willingness with which Gilly had accepted her into their lives warmed her.

“I’d be honored to be there, Gilly,” Dany said softly.

“Good,” Gilly smiled and went back to her knitting, “How are you and Jon faring?”

“No sign of a baby yet,” Dany said sadly. Gilly glanced at her.

“But I’m sure you are having a lovely time trying,” The words were said so innocently that Dany could have missed their import, but both women looked at each other and laughed.

“Yes, yes we are,” Dany giggled, “I think Jon is as determined as me.”

“Good,” Gilly continued innocently on with her knitting.

“Where is your family from Gilly?” Dany asked, curiously. Aemon seemed to be Gilly’s adopted father in many ways, but Dany had never heard mention of Gilly’s real family. Gilly looked at Dany with sad eyes, but resigned eyes.

“They live further up the mountain,” Gilly explained, “They do not really mix with anyone in the lower lands.”

In a town as small as Wintertown, Dany found it hard to imagine that there were still people she had yet to meet, but she was constantly surprised by this place.

“Are you close to them?” Dany asked.

“No, my father and I had a falling out when I started to see Sam,” Gilly explained, “I’ve not seen him nor my mother and sisters since.”

Dany was surprised to hear how similar, hers and Gilly’s stories were, despite being from what appeared to be different worlds.

“My father disowned me when I told him I was going to marry Jon,” Dany said.

“Families can be difficult,” Gilly said sympathetically.

“It’s too bad they can’t all be like the Starks,” Dany said.

“Yes, the Starks are lovely people,” Gilly smiled, “But even the Starks have had their share of dysfunction.”

“Oh?” Dany was surprised to hear that.

“Lady Catelyn did not approve of Robb Stark’s choice of wife at first,” Gilly said.

“What?” Dany was taken aback. Jeyne and Catelyn seemed so close, there had been no indication that there was ever a rift between them.

“The Westerlings have lost a lot by way of reputation over the years,” Gilly explained, “Lady Catelyn did not think a Westerling was an appropriate spouse for the next Lord of Winterfell.”

Dany was dumbfounded. Jon had never mentioned any of this too her, and the way Catelyn was with Jeyne now indicated nothing.

“She came around, though, obviously,” Gilly chuckled, “Lady Catelyn is not truly mean spirited, not like my father, and I think Jeyne giving Lady Catelyn a grandchild also helped, mothers can be odd like that. Sam’s family did not much take to me, until I had Little Sam.”

Dany sighed… _families were indeed difficult_.

The women were both startled when the door was thrown open, and Jon came rushing in with Sam trailing behind him. He looked a little frantic.

“Jon?” Dany stood. He looked up at her, his face a mixture of both happiness and fear. “What’s going on?”

“There is a soldier up at the big house,” Jon started, “He is saying he knew Arya!”


	24. Strange Tensions (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a very small update to this story that I have neglected for so long! Its small, but I hope to get a few chapters up on this story over the next few days/week. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your encouraging comments!

The young man had bright blue eyes, and black hair. His face was haunted and gaunt. Dany had seen the same look before on thousands of soldiers in France and Italy.

“I was with her,” He said, and Dany watched as Catelyn’s eyes filled with tears, and Ned had to steady himself against a chair.

“She’s… alive?” came Sansa’s tentative and sad voice.

“The last I saw her, she was,” the young man said.

“In Germany?” Asked Ned.

“Berlin,” said the soldier.

“How long ago?”

“A month, maybe,” the young man looked so tired.

“Thank you, son, for bringing us word,” Ned said, his voice choked with emotion.

Gendry nodded, “Arya, whip smart and strong she was, I wish I could have brought her home to you.”

“You did what you could,” Ned assured the young man, “You brought us hope again.”

“We promised each other…” Gendry started, “She and I we promised each other we’d tell our families if anything happened… I haven’t got much family to tell, but I promised just the same.”

Catelyn squeezed his arm, “Will you stay to supper with us, Gendry? You must be tired.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’d be honored.”

The family retired to the dining room for supper, Dany was about to follow when she realized Jon was hanging back. He had his back to the rest of the room and was staring out the window across the glen. Dany touched his arm.

“Jon?”

He turned and looked at her, he had tears glistening in his eyes, “She has to be alive.”

“They’re going to find her,” Dany said trying to sound reassuring, even though a month without hearing anything seemed like a long time, it was better than the not knowing for over a year. Jon took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I want her to be home, I want her to be safe,” Jon sighed.

“I know you do,” Dany said, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Jon held her.

“I could not bear another loss,” the words were said so softly that she almost did not hear them, but they broke her heart just the same. She looked up at him.

“Jon, I need to know that you will bear it, no matter the outcome,” She said emphatically. His dark grey eyes bore into her, and he looked a million miles away from her, “I need you here,” she felt selfish for saying so, but she needed him here, she needed him. They only had each other. She could be strong for him, if he could be strong for her… and he always was, he was the strongest man she knew. The glazed over grief in his eyes receded and he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“I’m here,” He whispered, and then gave her a sweet, half smile, “I’m here.”

Dany wrapped her arms tighter around him and laid her head against his chest, listening to the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Quietly, they joined the rest of the family in the dining room. Gendry sat near Ned and they spoke about the war, and about Germany. Ned had been to Germany during the Great War. Dany had not realized Ned had been a soldier once. Dany noted that most of Gendry’s stories were rather vague, just as Arya’s had reported to have been. _Had they been involved in some sort of clandestine operation for the government? _Dany had to wonder.

“Jon and Dany here are not long back from France themselves,” Ned said suddenly, snapping Dany from her thoughts.

“Oh?” said Gendry.

“Aye,” said Jon, “Was at Normandy.”

“And I was nursing,” Dany said simply. The table fell quiet, as if no one knew what to say. _What could any of them say really?_ It seemed their life would forever be in limbo until they knew what had become of Arya. Life would stand still, and they would always live in these months of uncertainty with the shadow of the war always looming over every happiness.

“Speaking of nursing, how have you found nursing for Aemon, Dany?” Catelyn asked.

Dany felt her face flush, the dinner conversation only growing more awkward, “I’m actually not nursing anymore,” Dany glanced at Jon, “I decided I needed to focus on the farm, come spring we will hopefully have more lambs to tend and then we will be raising some chicks, and I want to expand my garden.”

“You sound like a proper farmer now, Dany,” Ned chuckled. Dany noted that Sansa hid an eye roll. They had not spoken since the harvest festival, and Dany did not know if she cared to mend the relationship. Jon had alluded to some sort of unhappiness in Sansa’s past that had caused her to be so locked away from everyone, but Dany could not imagine what could be so horrible that she felt the need to shut everyone out.

“Trying to be,” Dany chuckled, and glanced at Jon once more.

The awkwardness of the rest of dinner did not dissipate, no one seemed to know what to do with the information that Arya was alive, and yet still missing. Why did she not come home? Was she hurt? Was she desperate and alone? No one had any real answers, not the army, nor even Gendry, though Gendry’s news sparked hope, it also raised so many questions. Dany had never been so relieved to be on her way home from the big house than she was tonight. She wanted to hide away forever, and not be reminded any longer of the horrors of war.

She and Jon walked home hand in hand and in silence until they reached their cottage. Ghost and the lamb greeted them at the door. Dany patted each of them.

“I know we are eventually going to have put our poor lamb out with the rest of the flock,” She said as she scratched the lamb behind his ears.

“Aye, the little lad will have to learn he is not wolf pup,” Jon chuckled.

“How many lambs do you think we will have?”

“A few of the ewes are already pregnant,” Jon said, “So I’d imagine we will have a fair amount to either sell or grow the flock.”

As Jon lit the hearth and Dany flickered on a lamp, she noted that Gilly had cleaned her kitchen, after their hasty exit to the big house for news of Arya.

“We will have to have Sam and Gilly over for dinner again, since we got interrupted,” Dany said to Jon.

“Aye,” he replied simply. Dany came to where he was kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“Still thinking about Arya?” She asked.

“No, I mean yes to some extent, but not at this moment,” Jon said, and looked up at her, “Why didn’t you tell me that you stopped nursing for Aemon?”

Dany recoiled slightly, “Um… I don’t… I don’t know…”

“I ran into Aemon the other day and he told me, but you never said until tonight.”

“Do you want me to nurse for him?” Dany deflected as she went to put a kettle on for tea.

“I want you to do whatever makes you happy here,” Jon said standing and coming into the kitchen.

“I am happy here,” Dany said softly, “I’m happy with our little farm, and with being your wife, and one day the mother of your children.”

Jon smiled sadly at her.

“What is that look for?” Dany wanted to know.

“I thought you were enjoying nursing for Aemon.”

Dany turned away to check on her kettle, “It was fine.”

“Did something happen?” Jon pressed.

“No,” was her simple reply. _How could she tell him that sewing up Jeor Mormont’s leg had sent her hurtling back to France? _If she was going to be a proper nurse, she had to have a clear head. Jon went silent, as was his way. “Do you want some tea?” Dany asked, trying to soothe the odd tension that had seemed to follow them home from the big house.

“I’ll have some, thank you,” Jon went and sat back down in his chair and picked up the newspaper, while Dany prepared a tray of tea for them and brought it in front of the hearth. She handed him a cup. He was silent.

“Are you angry with me for not telling you?” Dany asked boldly.

“No,” he responded, “It would have been nice to hear it from you, rather than Aemon, or at the family dinner table, but I’m not angry.”

“I did not figure there was much to tell,” Dany whispered, as she curled up in her chair and stared at the fire, where she saw burning buildings and broken bodies. Jon sighed, in an oddly sad way that she could not decipher.

“Sam brought the mail up for us earlier,” Jon said.

“Oh?”

“There was another letter from Viserys.”

“I’ll read it tomorrow,” Dany said somewhat harshly.

Jon nodded again and took another sip of his tea.

“He has nothing to say that won’t hold until tomorrow,” Dany snapped. _What did she care if Aerys was dying?_ Death moved her very little now.


	25. In Need of Peace (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your encouraging comments! I appreciate you all!

Jon could have heard the ticking of his pocket watch as he watched Dany’s eyes scan the contents of Viserys’ second letter. He attempted to eat his breakfast in silence and not disturb her. Finally, she folded the letter and quietly put it back inside the envelope and resumed her own breakfast. Jon imagined the letter said much the same as the last one, but he had to fight back the urge to ask her. She would tell him… _wouldn’t she?_

“I’m going to take Ghost and the lamb out with me today,” Jon said breaking the silence. Dany looked up at him as if she had forgotten he was in the room.

“Yes, yes, that’s fine,” Dany said and continued to pick at her breakfast.

“Do you need anything?” Jon asked, donning his cap and scarf.

“No,” said Dany, “I’m going to do up the dishes and then I’ll be along to mind the chickens.”

“I can throw some feed out for them if you’d like, it’s rather cold out,” Jon offered, knowing something was weighing on her mind.

“No, no, I will take care of them,” She said quickly.

“Alright,” Jon leaned down and kissed her forehead, before whistling for Ghost and the lamb to follow him out. As he trudged out the door, he saw Dany take out the letter once again. Sighing, Jon closed the door behind him and pulled his scarf and coat tighter around him.

* * *

The days were growing colder, and Jon was surprised that they had not seen a good, proper snow fall yet. He chuckled as Ghost and the lamb chased each other around his legs. Whomever had doubted that a wolf could be gentle, had never seen a wolf like Ghost. Jon smiled at the thought that Ghost was somehow meant to be theirs. Once Jon set the sheep to pasture, he went about mucking out the mess they made in the barn overnight. The chickens clucked at him as if demanding their breakfast.

“Quiet you lot,” Jon laughed, “The lady of the house will be along soon enough to tend to you.”

After Jon mucked out the hay, he cleaned the water troughs and refilled them. He then set about mending a broken fence in one of the stalls, he intended to use this stall when the ewes were ready to lamb as it seemed to be in the warmest section of the barn. One of the greatest dangers to newborn lambs was hypothermia, especially in the Scottish climate.

Suddenly, the barn door slammed shut, making Jon startle, and he cursed under his breath, wandering if there would ever come a day again when his heart would not race at such common place occurrences. Ghost nudged his leg. Looking up, he saw Dany stalking toward the chicken feed, wearing the darling apron she always wore when she took care of the chickens. Jon did not think she realized how fetching she looked in that apron, especially with her hair loose and wispy around her face. When he looked at her face, though, she had storm clouds in her eyes.

“You alright, Dany-love?” He asked, coming out of the stall he had been repairing. She seemed to startle upon hearing him.

“I did not realize you were in here,” Dany said.

“Did not mean to startle ya,” Jon chuckled, “I was just mending one of the stalls,” Jon came over to her and took her hand for a moment, “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” was her terse reply, “I need to feed the chickens.”

Jon nodded and released her, suddenly feeling that they had taken a step backward in their relationship. He could not decide if it was the letter from Viserys or him that had nettled her so. He had not meant to sound scolding when he had confronted her last night about no longer nursing for Aemon, but he knew he had sounded that way.

“Jon?” A voice called from outside the barn. Uncle Ned. Both Dany and Jon looked up, and Jon walked over and threw open the barn door, as Dany went about dealing with her chickens.

“Here Uncle Ned,” Jon called to him before he reached the cottage. Ned smiled and followed Jon into the barn. Ghost immediately ran up too Ned, begging for attention, as did the lamb. Ned chuckled.

“You’ve got these two beasts spoiled,” Ned knelt and patted Ghost for a few moments before straightening. He looked at Dany and smiled, before reaching out to kiss her cheek. Dany’s stormy eyes softened for a moment. Jon knew she often felt uncomfortable around father figures, which was one of the reasons he had been pleased to see her so easily taking up with Aemon, as she had never had a good relationship with Aerys. He hoped that one day she would come to love Ned as he did, that Ned could be the father she never got to have.

“I just came up to tell you that the electric company has finally determined they can wire the cottage.”

“That’s great news,” Jon said.

“They would need you both out of the house for a few days,” Ned said, and Jon and Dany exchanged a look, “You can stay up at the big house, while they are doing the work, there is plenty of room.”

“Thank you, Ned, for everything,” Jon said shaking his Uncle’s hand, “Just let us know when.”

Jon still felt rather uncomfortable that his uncle was paying for all the remodels to the cottage. Ned insisted that it increased the value of the entire estate, but Jon still felt responsible… it was his and Dany’s home after all, and they may very well be there for the rest of their lives. Jon could not protest Ned’s kindness, though as he wanted Dany to be comfortable in their cottage.

Dany went back to feeding the chickens, and Jon followed Ned outside to see him off. His uncle was a man of few words, like himself, and Jon had always felt that kinship with him. Jon had once desired to know his real father, but those desires and wounds were long ago buried, he had other things to worry over now, and Ned was a better father than anyone could ask for.

“Thank you, Ned, truly, for all that you have done for Dany and me,” Jon said, sincerely.

Ned smiled kindly, “It is my pleasure, and it is a joy to have the two of you here with us,” Ned clapped him on the shoulder, and pulled his coat about him, “I only wish that Robb and Arya were here to share in that joy…”

Jon looked at the dirt, barely concealed grief always hanging heavy on his shoulders.

“Your presence makes the pain easier to bare,” Ned said and hugged Jon tightly. Jon hugged him back, though he considered himself a poor replacement for Robb, though deep in his heart, he knew that Ned loved him for himself, and not as a replacement. “I’ll let you know when to expect the electric company.”

“Thank you, Ned.”

* * *

The sun had sunk beneath the Highlands after dinner and Jon had brought the sheep in from the pasture. After removing his cap and scarf and hanging it by the front door, Jon went into the kitchen to take the kettle that was whistling off the stove for Dany, as she was curled up by the fire. He prepared a tea tray, with two cups, and brought it to the little table in front of the hearth. Jon noted that Dany had a couple of his shirts in her lap and she was stabbing at them with a needle, mending buttons.

“How long do you think we will have to stay at the big house once the electric company comes?” she asked, softly, almost nervously.

“I’m not sure,” Jon sighed, and made her a cup of tea, “Ned thinks only a few days, but these types of things usually take quite a lot of time.”

Dany frowned, “We don’t need electricity that badly, do we?”

Jon chuckled, “I suppose not if we want to keep living like it’s 1845.”

“I rather like our 19th century cottage,” Dany smiled, but Jon could tell something was pressing on her mind.

“I think you may think differently when your eyes start to fail from sewing by firelight,” Jon rubbed her arm and grinned at her, “Or when we are in need of a telephone to call Gilly when it comes time to bring a baby into the world.”

Dany’s sweet face flushed, but her eyes were so very sad, “There’s no babe as of yet.”

Jon gently flattened his palm against her stomach, “One day.”

She nodded and looked away from him and continued stabbing at his shirt buttons. Jon stilled her furiously working hands.

“You don’t have to do that, love, I can mend a few buttons,” he said and tried to take the shirt from her hands. She snatched it away and gave him a disgruntled look.

“I can do it,” She snapped, “I’m perfectly capable.”

Jon chuckled, “I know you are… but its my shirt.”

“Well, I’m the one who broke the buttons,” Dany retorted. She had never quite gotten the knack of the small tabletop Mangle, they used to ring out their clothes… both their clothes had many crushed buttons as a result. When they had first wed back in 1938, Jon had heard of an electric clothes drying machine that had been invented that had changed the way women were doing laundry all over the world, or so the advertisement claimed. The contraption had been far too expensive for their meager earnings. It was one of the luxuries which Jon imagined he might never be able to give them, but as Dany was fond of telling him… They had other things… better things. So, Dany continued to ring their clothes out through the Mangle, and continued to crush a button here and there, and mend them in front of the hearth.

Dany gasped and Jon looked up to see her clutching her finger. She was often prone to stabbing herself with her needle as well. Jon took her finger and kissed it, making the corners of her mouth twitch in a smile.

“You sure you don’t want help?” He asked with a grin.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own,” She insisted, “I’m not completely devoid of domestic skills.”

Jon laughed, “I do not think you are devoid of domestic skills.”

Laughter, however, appeared to be the incorrect response as her eyes grew stormy once again.

“Just because I was born into privilege, does not mean that I don’t have anything to offer as a farmer’s wife,” Dany said softly. Jon knelt on the ground in front of her. She refused to meet his eye as she continued to stab at the button on his shirt despite her finger. Jon took her wrist to halt her movement.

“Hey, where is all this coming from?” He asked in concern. She looked at him then.

She sighed a deep sigh of resignation, “It’s nothing, I’m being foolish, I should not let him get to me this way.”

“Who?”

“It’s just something Viserys said in his letter.”

“What did he say?”

Dany looked back down at the shirt, “He asked if I had learned anything useful about being a farmer’s wife.”

“Oh, Dany…”

“One of the last things Aerys said to me before he threw me out of the house was that I had nothing useful to offer a farmer as a wife, and that I would end up being a burden to you.”

“Dany…” Jon started to console, wanting to hold her.

“And he was right to some extent,” Dany huffed, “I muddle along as best as I can, but I cannot even cook a proper meal!”

Jon reached up and smoothed back some of her hair, “Do I look like I’m starving to death?”

Dany’s mouth twitched in a smile again before her eyes grew serious once more, “It’s just that sometimes I still feel like a little girl playing house with my best friend.”

Jon smiled, “Do you think I think of you as a little girl?”

Dany met his eyes once more, “I want to be useful, Jon, I cannot abide useless people.”

“Dany,” Jon started, “You are far more than just useful to me,” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly upon her lips, “Any skill you feel you may be lacking can be learned, but I want you to know that I do not find you lacking in anyway. I’ve never been happier than I am right here, right now with you.”

“Even though I break most of your buttons?” She teased, with a sad smile.

Jon laughed, “Yes, I didn’t marry you to do my laundry,” Jon took the shirt from her hands, “Though I thank you for it just the same,” He pulled her up out of her chair and drew her close, “I married you because I love you,” He kissed her again, and then gently placed his hand over her heart, “I love you for who you are in here.”

Dany then wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. Jon held her and kissed the top of her hair.

“May I show you how much I love you?” He asked smiling, and she nodded quietly.

Slowly, Jon reached down and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, causing her nightgown to ride all the way up. Jon could feel the warmth between her legs pressing against his belly. Kissing her, Jon carried her toward their bedroom. When he pulled his lips from hers, she looked into his eyes and reached up and brushed some of his hair off his forehead. She smiled gently and kissed him again. Carefully, Jon deposited her on their bed, and quickly divested himself of his clothes. He watched, transfixed, as she slowly pulled off her nightgown and scooted further back onto the bed to make room for him. Following her, Jon crawled onto the bed, and moved up her body, blanketing her, causing her to fall back into the pillows and blankets. Jon could hear her breathing growing heavy, and the space around them narrowing to only him and her and this bed. Dany reached up and stroked his cheek. Her eyes still looked strangely sad. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he nearly collapsed upon her. Wanting to be closer to her, wanting to hold her in his arms, Jon eased his arms around her slight shoulders, and pressed their bodies together.

“I love you, Daenerys,” Jon whispered into her ear before placing kisses from her ear, to her neck, and finally again to her mouth. Kissing her neck and her collarbone, as she threaded her fingers through his hair, Jon whispered, “We’re not playing house,” slowly, he reached his hand between their bodies and began to stroke her, “We’re building a home and a life together,” He continued as she moaned softly, “And a family…”

Dany nodded, and gasped against his shoulder, before nuzzling her face against his neck. She gripped him tightly, as he began to push inside her being careful to be very gentle with her precious body.

Jon peppered her face with kisses, and then littered a few down her neck, and chest, “You are the only woman I want, the only one I want to grow old with…” He looked into her eyes, trying to maintain his composure, “The only one I want to have a baby with.”

Panting and clinging to him, Dany nodded, before whispering, “I love you.”

Her legs tightened around his waist, drawing him deeper. He groaned and she smiled. Their eyes met and for a moment they just looked at each other. Her eyes were shiny with hidden emotions, but she smiled tenderly at him and touched his cheek.

“You’re going to be wonderful father,” She said softly and trustingly. Somehow those simple and tender words broke his restraint.

* * *

Late that night, long after the world had fallen asleep, and they surely should have been asleep as well, Jon lay between Dany’s legs with his head pillowed against her belly and his arms wrapped around her waist. She was gently stroking his hair and massaging his scalp with her fingertips. They were both quiet in the afterglow of their loving. Jon could tell that whatever had been weighing on her earlier in the day had returned. Her eyes looked a thousand miles away.

“You still with me, love?” He asked.

She continued her gentle caressing of his hair, “Yes.”

Jon kissed her belly, “What are you thinking about that has had you so quiet all day?”

“I was not so quiet a little while ago,” She deflected with a grin.

“Aye, I think you may have woken the sheep,” Jon teased her, and she playfully smacked the side of his head, before her fingers continued to massage his scalp, “What’s weighing on you, love? Tell me.”

Their eyes met, and she sighed.

“Amongst his usual barbs and insults, Viserys says that Aerys does not have much time left,” Dany said, “He wants me to come ‘pay my respects,’ I believe is the term he used.”

Jon nodded, trying to choose any words he might say very carefully, as the last time they had discussed this topic he had upset her, “And what do you think?”

“I have no desire to see either of them, and I’m afraid I have no respects to pay him,” Dany said harshly.

Jon sighed and kissed her belly once more, “If I had the chance to see my biological father, even if it was only to tell him off for ruining my mother’s life, I think I would take it.”

“What are you getting at?” Dany asked, her fingers pausing.

“Seeing Aerys once more before he dies, could be good,” Jon said carefully, “Forgive him, make peace him with him,” She started to protest but he continued, “Not for his sake, but for yours.”

Dany turned her face away, and shifted in the bed, to turn onto her side. Jon let her up and curled up beside her with an arm around her waist after he had drawn the blankets around them. Her back was too him now, and he sighed. He kissed her hair.

“I just want you to have peace, Dany-love.”


	26. The Big House (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty sure quarantine has effectively crushed my creativity. I'm trying hard to regain it, so I am sorry if this chapter is a little boring as I attempt to wade through this dry spell. Its been so long since I updated this story, I felt I needed to start with a simple chapter to get back in the mindset for it. Its short, but I hope not too disappointing.

A soft moan escaped Dany, as Jon kept a gentle pace where he lay nestled between her legs. Dany stroked his soft hair, her mind not fully in the act, as she wondered if their union would ever bear fruit.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jon asked in an almost pained voice against her hair.

“No, no don’t stop,” Dany panted.

“You just seem… distracted,” Jon stilled the slow thrust of his hips.

“I’m fine,” Dany smoothed back some of his hair and smiled, “I’m sorry…”

Jon kissed her softly on the forehead, “You don’t need to apologize, love, but if you are not feeling up to this, it’s alright.”

“It’s not that,” Dany assured him, “I love… I love this…” She felt shy saying it but his beautiful smile when she did made up for any embarrassment.

“I’m glad,” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him. Dany held onto him and let herself feel the comfort of his arms. He always made her feel safe and whole, but right now she felt broken inside. She wished she had known her mother, that she could have had someone to ask questions too, or to share her burdens with, but instead she had had an abusive and distant father and brother who did not care what happened to her. Here she was trying to get pregnant and she knew so very little about being a mother, or what it meant to bring life into the world. Jon gave a gentle thrust bringing her back into the moment.

“You’re making me feel alone here,” Jon said, his voice sad, as he stopped moving.

“How can you feel alone when you’re inside me?” Dany asked evasively and then to her dismay, Jon pulled out of her, both wincing, as he rolled onto his back. At first, she feared that he was angry but then he gathered her against his side.

“I’d have more than your body, Dany-love, I want your heart and your mind as well,” Jon whispered and kissed her forehead.

Dany let her eyes slide closed, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re fretting over your father, and staying up at the big house,” Jon sighed, “And babies… but you can tell me these things, ya know? You don’t have to keep ‘em from me.”

“Aye, I know,” Dany whispered, unable to bring herself to look into his eyes. She put her hand over his heart and could still feel it rapidly beating. Jon put his hand over her belly.

“I know your heart aches for a baby, my love,” He said softly, almost hesitantly, “But babes come in their own time.”

“And if one never comes?” Dany said softly, the terrifying words slipping from her mouth like a secret.

“Then will we not be enough for each other?” Jon asked, “You are my family, Daenerys, whether we have ten babies or none.”

Dany giggled, trying to let her heart lighten, “Ten?”

“Aye, I think it’s a nice even number,” Jon teased, as he patted her bottom.

“Do you know how babies are born?” Dany asked, pretending to be horrified.

“Not rightly, though I’ve seen plenty of lambings,” Jon grinned at her, “I can’t imagine it’s much different.”

Dany scoffed and playfully smacked his arm making him laugh.

He kissed her forehead, “Lets go to sleep, love.”

She nodded and wrapped her arm around his waist, but though she closed her eyes she could not sleep.

* * *

Dany stared up at the big house, feeling anxious nerves roiling around in her stomach. She loved the Starks, truly, but the idea of living in their home until the electric company was finished wiring their cottage, was somewhat unnerving. She was still growing accustom to everyone and learning her own place here in the Highlands, and she did not want to impose on Jon’s family, or take advantage of all the kindness they had shown since they had moved to Scotland.

“You alright, love?” Jon asked giving her hand a squeeze.

“Yes.”

“Its only for a few days…” he said sadly. Dany looked up at him. _Did he think she did not want to be around his family?_ _Surely, he understood her feelings on the matter?_

“Come on then,” He smiled softly and tugged her hand.

Dany picked up her suitcase, and together they entered by the kitchen side door. They found Caitlyn kneading dough in the kitchen.

“Welcome!” She greeted pleasantly, and came to give them each a hug, “I’m getting supper on, it will be ready shortly, I’ll have Rickon take you up to your room,” Caitlyn shouted for Rickon, and Rickon appeared a moment later, and bowed to them.

“Shall I carry your luggage ma’am,” Rickon asked, like a hotel porter, as he reached for Dany’s bag.

“You may,” Dany chuckled, and out of the corner of her eye saw Jon smiling.

They followed Rickon to one of the guest rooms.

“Dinner will be served in an hour,” Rickon said with another exaggerated bow as he sat Dany’s suitcase down at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you, my good man,” Jon laughed and tossed Rickon a coin, which he caught and disappeared, shutting the door behind him. Dany turned to find Jon watching her, as he sat down on the bed.

“I know you don’t want to be here,” Jon started, holding his hand out her. Dany went to him and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Its not that I don’t want to be here, Jon,” Dany smoothed back one of his curls, “I just don’t want to impose on Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat, they’ve done so much for us already, I don’t want to take advantage.”

“They don’t see it that way,” Jon assured, “We’re family.”

“I know, but…”

“Just because your father and brother could not be a proper family to you, does not mean mine can’t,” Jon stated.

“That’s hardly fair of you to bring up,” Dany said with a huff.

“That’s what this is about though, isn’t it?”

Dany turned away from him and began to unpack her suitcase, “What do you mean?”

“You have never known a kind, loving family, and so you are uncomfortable and don’t know how to act here,” Jon said.

Dany rolled her eyes. _Was she so transparent to him?_

“I love your family,” Dany said, avoiding his eyes as she took a few blouses from her bag and hung them up so they would not wrinkle.

“Our family,” Jon corrected, his frown deepening, “They’re your family too now.”

“I know,” Dany said quietly.

“Do you?”

“Of course, I do,” Dany snapped, not wanting to quarrel but it seemed all they were capable of since her brother’s wretched letter came. She knew that Jon thought she should go say her farewells to her father. Mend things if they could be mended. He said it was for her own peace of mind, but Dany did not know if she had the will or the desire to mend anything. Perhaps she liked things to remain broken? Jon had always been a fixer, a reconciler… when she… she had always been vindictive and ill-tempered. She wondered sometimes how he had fallen in love with her at all.

Quietly, she set about hanging up the few clothes she had brought so that they would not wrinkle, and Jon watched her.

“Dany-love…” Jon started.

“Yes?” Dany said and the harshness in her own voice made her wince.

“Come here.”

“I’m busy,” She stated stubbornly, and faked a teasing smile, “You heard the hotel porter, dinner will be ready in an hour.”

“The clothes will keep, and so will dinner,” Jon said, “Come here.”

Dany turned and glowered at him.

“Come here,” He repeated holding his hand out to her.

Reluctantly, Dany joined him, and he scooted back, patting the bed, inviting her to join him. With a slight roll of her eyes, she got on the bed next to him, and with an arm around her waist, he urged her to lay down with him. They were side by side, her back to his chest. He kept his arm around her waist and held her close.

“I was not trying to pick a fight,” Jon said softly, as he buried his nose in her hair.

Dany was not yet ready to give in to his kindness, “I know.”

“But…”

“You always say anything before the word _but _is horseshit…” Dany said, keeping her eyes fixed on the other side of the room.

He chuckled, and Dany could feel his warm breath against her neck, “Aye it is but…” He laughed softly before growing serious once more, “I want you to feel safe with my family, I want you to feel like they’re your family too, and I know Sansa has not been the nicest to you, but everyone else… they want you to feel welcome here, and I wish you could believe that.”

“I do believe that,” Dany said softly, “I’m still getting used to everyone is all… I’m still getting used to here…” It felt like a confession, and she hoped he did not interrupt her words as unhappiness. She was happy here, however, she was still learning how she fit and where she belonged.

He nodded.

Dany started to get up, but he held her tighter.

“Lay here with me for a moment,” He asked, “I just want to hold you for a bit.”

Wondering what this strange week would bring, Dany nodded and allowed herself to be held in her husband’s strong arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Spending the Week at Winterfell


	27. A Place to Belong, Pt 1 (Dany)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not get quite as far in this chapter as I wanted and so it really just sets up the next set of events, but decided to go ahead and post it, as it may be another week before I can get the next part up. I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for sticking with me as I try to write myself out of this creative funk I've fallen into!
> 
> Also if anyone is interested in the song Dany sings, its called "The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond," and there is a beautiful rendition of it on youtube by Ella Roberts. Its a Scottish folk song, and I believe it was written in the 1800's, but I'm not entirely sure of it's origin.

Dany curled up in the corner of the bed and watched Jon’s restless sleep. She wanted to reach out and touch him and soothe him but was not sure what to do. She hated to see him suffer so cruelly. The war was over. He should be allowed some peace. The last time she had tried to wake him from a troubled sleep had caused more anxiety than good. She did not know if he knew how often he woke her in the night and did not have the heart to tell him… her sweet, strong husband, who deserved only good things in this world. When his thrashing seemed to calm some, Dany lay back down beside him and watched him. She remembered the day they had said goodbye and she had sent him off to war, like so many other women had with their own husbands that day. They had not even been wed a full year, and they had been little more than starry-eyed kids themselves. Sitting at the London train station, they had held hands and had been quiet, not sure what to say, when anything they might have said could have been the last. A radio had been playing, and to both of their surprise, a Scottish folk song had come on. Looking over at Jon now in the dark, she recalled the words.

“By yon bonnie banks, and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomon’, Where me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomon’,” Dany sang softly, though she was no singer, “O ye’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low, an’ I’ll be in Scotland afore ye,” she reached out and carefully, and gently stroked a finger down his cheek, “For me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomon’…”

She could not remember the rest of the words, only the feeling of Jon’s hand clinging to hers. For weeks leading to his shipping out, he had been so bold and confident, but that day on the platform, his hands were shaking. She had seen the fear in his eyes, and yet he went any way, and continued to go, every day for near on five years. Never once did he complain… and now he had to fight those same fears in his sleep… it was not fair.

“O ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low, an’ I’ll be in Scotland afore ye…” Dany sang to him in a whisper, “Do you remember, my love?” She said softly, not wishing to startle him but hoping her soft tones might bring him comfort, “I know you married a stubborn woman, and I wish I was gentler or softer, like I was when you first wed me…” Dany sighed deeply, wondering if he saw her as very changed as she felt, “I pray you don’t come to regret me…”

Jon groaned in his sleep, and Dany felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but they would not come.

“Shhh,” Dany crooned stroking a finger down his cheek once more, “Rest, my love, I’m here to watch over you, just as you watch over me…”

* * *

Breakfast with the Starks had been lively, and nothing like the experiences of Dany’s own family growing up. Everyone, even Sansa, had been full of smiles and laughter. In her youth, Dany had rarely taken meals with her family, often attended by nannies, or governesses, but never a loving family. Jon was at ease here, comfortable in a way that she had rarely seen him.

“I’ve got to go take care of the sheep,” Jon kissed Dany on the forehead as everyone began to disperse from the breakfast table.

“I’ll come with you,” Dany said, swiftly rising to join him.

“I’ll be alright,” Jon said.

“I need to see about Ghost and our lamb,” Dany replied.

“I’ll bring Ghost back up with me if that is alright by Ned and Cat, but this is as good a time as any to reintegrate the lamb into the herd.”

“I also need to see about my chickens,” Dany countered. It was not that she did not want to be left alone with the Starks, but she did not know what to do with her herself at the big house all day and did not want to be in anyone’s way.

Jon chuckled, “_Our_ chickens, you mean?”

“Yes.”

He sighed and nodded.

Hand in hand they walked toward their home, occasionally Jon squeezed her hand as if to remind her that he was beside her, even though they were silent as they went. They were silent like they were that day on the train platform, a heavy silence, as if they had so much that should be said but could not. Jon was the only thing true and constant in her life and had been throughout the years at war when she feared she had lost more of her humanity than perhaps she ever had. To think of Jon, though, had always worked to soften her heart again. Dreaming of looking into those dark eyes that held naught but tenderness for her and saw her for what she could be rather than what she was. He had always made her better, and she hoped that she did the same for him.

“I love you,” She said suddenly, and he turned to her and grinned.

“And I love you, Dany-love,” Jon chuckled and squeezed her hand again. _Dany-love_, had he called her that before the war? She could not remember, but she found that she liked the sound of it in his thick Scottish brogue.

“I know that this is not exactly the life we dreamed of as the children that we were before the war,” Jon said.

“Well…” Dany said softly, “As you say, we were children then…”

“I don’t imagine you spent much time dreaming of trudging through fields, and mucking out chicken coops,” Jon squeezed her hand, “Or leaving London behind…”

_Had she really lost much by leaving London behind?_ “Nor do I imagine that you dreamed much of going to war, or becoming a farmer,” Dany said.

“No perhaps not,” Jon agreed with a sweet, understanding smile, “We promised each other, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer…”

“Yes,” Dany agreed.

“But I want ye to know, that I do understand if you need to grieve it,” Jon looked down at the ground as they walked.

“Grieve it?” Dany asked, confused.

“Grieve the life that could have been had the war not taken us so far from each other,” Jon said.

“Do you grieve it?”

Jon looked at her, “Aye, sometimes, but I am content here as long as you are by my side.”

_Was she content?_ “I love you, Jon Snow, and I’ll not leave your side again,” for that was the only truth she knew right now.

He smiled at her.

When they arrived, the electric company had already started work on wiring their little cottage, and Jon and Dany set to work in the barn. Ghost played at Dany’s feet but stared after Jon as he lifted the lamb onto his shoulders to take it to join the herd. She knew it was foolish to feel so sad about setting their lamb to pasture, it was the natural way of things after all and the lamb could not live it’s whole life in their cottage, but she was sad still, and sad that little Ghost was losing his companion. They had not had the pup long, but he was growing like a weed, and he would soon be beast enough to be living in their cottage. Taking out her pail, Dany filled it with chicken feed and went to feed her chickens. She threw food out for them before taking a basket to gather their eggs. No, perhaps this was not the life she had dreamed of when she and Jon first wed, but it was a good life, and one to be proud of, and she could learn to love it and be content here.

* * *

Instead of returning with Jon to the big house for lunch, Dany made her way to town wishing to see Gilly and found both Gilly and Sam at work in the library. Aemon was there too, and part of her was ashamed. She had not seen him much since she decided not to nurse for him anymore, as she could not decide if it was what she truly wanted, or if it was fear of reliving the horrors of war, that drove her away from something that could truly serve this community.

“Hello Dany,” Sam greeted pleasantly, and started rifling through the mail pouch he carried. The mail was delivered here, and Sam sorted it and made sure letters made their way to the proper recipients.

“Hello Sam,” Dany smiled.

“Would you like a sandwich Dany?” Gilly offered pleasantly, as she distributed her goods to Aemon, and Sam and Little Sam.

“Thank you,” Dany accepted gratefully. She had not known Gilly long, but she was quickly becoming a dear friend.

“I’ve a letter for you somewhere…” Sam said still rifling through his bag and making Dany smile.

“I heard that the electric company is up wiring the Snow cottage,” Aemon chuckled good-naturedly, “Are you and Jon staying with the Starks then?”

“Aye,” Dany said happily. She had feared that he would be angry with her for no longer nursing for him, but he had not brought it up again.

“For all my years, I never thought I’d see the day when half the highlands would be lit up in electric lights,” said Aemon.

Having grown up where electric lights had been much more common; Dany could only smile. In Aemon’s long life, however, she imagined he would never have considered seeing the two greatest wars in human history. His old eyes had seen so much death and devastation sometimes she wondered how it was that he still smiled at all, perhaps his pain had turned to wisdom, and Dany could only hope the same would happen for her.

“Here it is!” Sam exclaimed, and handed her the letter.

Taking it from his hands, Dany’s heart dropped, seeing her brother’s handwriting on the front. Had her father died? Did she care? The thought made her feel old and sad, she had seen so much death, what was one more?

“Whose it from?” Sam asked happily, and Gilly smacked his arm.

“That be none of your business Samwell Tarly!”

“I was just asking,” Sam replied, rubbing his arm where he had been scolded.

Dany could not help but chuckle, “It’s alright, Gilly, it’s from my brother, Sam, I imagine he has some news about my father.”

“Your father?” Sam pressed.

“Yes, he’s been quite ill.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Aemon considering her, and she wondered how much he could still see. She knew he was nearly blind, but still there were days where it seemed he could see right through her.

“Losing a father is no easy thing,” said Aemon.

“Well, I don’t know that he’s dead yet,” Dany said, and regretted her callous her voice sounded. _Did she care if her father was dead?_ He certainly did not care about her. _Had he not said that she was dead to him? _

“Will you go and see him?” Gilly asked.

“No, I reckon not, not with winter upon us and the weather turning cold,” Dany said, “I’d not want to risk getting stuck in the lowlands if there is a good snow.”

The group chuckled, and they continued with sharing their meal and laughing together, while Dany was haunted by the letter in her pocket.

* * *

Supper time was nearly upon her by the time she made it back to the big house, and she strode into the yard to find Jon and Ned and Rickon and little Neddy and Theon all playing some game with a ball in the yard. Catelyn and Jeyne were watching from chairs where they were knitting. Dany caught sight of Sansa coming up on the other side of the yard from the direction of the barns. All the men folk were laughing and carry-on as if they had not a care in the world. Jon’s face beamed like she had not seen it in years. He was so at ease here… he was home, and she wondered if she would ever feel so comfortable here, as if she had a place in the highlands, a place where she could belong.

“Dany!” Jeyne called out to her happily and waved her over. Putting on a brave smile, Dany strode over, and saw Jon look up at her, with something stormy in his eyes that she could not quite interpret. She sat down beside Catelyn, who reached over and patted her hand.

“I think Jon was afraid you’d gotten lost,” Catelyn said with a kind motherly smile, “He was ready to mount a search party.”

Dany shook her head and smiled, “Jon worries far too much about me, besides since the war I’ve gotten quite used to finding my own way about…”

Sansa rolled her eyes, and it was only out of deference for Catelyn that Dany bit her tongue. She and Sansa had not yet made up since the cold words that they had exchanged before the harvest festival, and Dany found that the longer they let those words fester, the more she would like to say to Miss Sansa Stark.

“Ned got him to calm down, said you’d probably gotten carried away talking to sweet young Gilly, as you had become such good friends,” Catelyn said.

Dany swallowed, now understanding the look in Jon’s eyes. He was angry with her. They would not fight in front of the family, it was not their way, but she knew it was coming, and for what she did not know. She had told him she was going to see Gilly, and though she was later than she had expected, it was not by much, she had still made it back in time for supper. What right had he to be angry with her?

* * *

After dinner and an evening spent together playing games in the parlor, the family began to grow weary, and slowly trickled away, until only Sansa, Jeyne, Dany and Jon remained.

“I’m off to bed, ladies,” said Jon standing from the card table and looking at Dany expectantly. Dany did not budge, perhaps if she let him go to bed first then he would fall asleep, effectively staving off whatever this fight would be about, “Do you want to come to bed with me, love?”

“I’m going to play another round with Sansa and Jeyne,” Dany said, avoiding his gaze. She heard him sigh.

“As you like,” said Jon tensely.

The letter she had burned like fire in her pocket, but she did not want to read it with Jon angry in the room with her. Without another word, Jon disappeared, and the three girls continued on with their game.

“Were you off seeing Podrick in the stables again?” Jeyne asked Sansa with a conspiratorial smile, and Dany saw Sansa glance at her warily before her face resumed its usual mask of cool reserve.

“Podrick and I do not keep company anymore,” said Sansa.

“Well, why ever not?” Jeyne demanded to know.

“We’re simply not suited.”

“Not suited?” Jeyne nearly scowled, and Dany wondered if she should not retreat after all, as Sansa sent another scathing look her way. Sweet Jeyne seemed oblivious to the mounting tension.

“Aye, not suited, Jeyne,” Sansa said, obviously more harshly than she meant.

Jeyne pursed her lips and studied Sansa.

“Shall I get us some tea?” Dany asked, wanting to escape, but also not wanting to go up and face Jon.

“I think its nigh time for me to retire,” Sansa said, and Jeyne playfully rolled her eyes.

“I think you just don’t want to face any more questions about Podrick,” Jeyne teased her sister-in-law.

Sansa chuckled nonchalantly, “There’s nothing to tell of Podrick,” she insisted lightly, as if the boy meant nothing to her, “We had some fun is all, and now he’s leaving.”

“Podrick’s leaving?” Dany asked, frowning.

“Aye, and good riddance too,” Sansa said.

Dany had thought them sweet on each other and knew Jon had alluded to as much though he never said.

Playfully shaking her head, still not picking up on the tension, Jeyne stood, “Well, if we aren’t to play another round of cards, then I’m off to check on Neddy and put myself to bed.”

Jeyne strode from the room, leaving Sansa and Dany in uncomfortable silence at the card table.

“I suppose I shall retire as well,” Sansa said abruptly standing.

Dany took the letter from her pocket, “I’ll be along, after I read this letter.”

Sansa nodded tersely, “Just remember to turn the light out.”

“I shall,” said Dany, trying to hide her irritation. She knew to turn the light out. Once Sansa was safely away, Dany tore open the letter and stared at it a moment. Did she want to know the contents of the letter? Perhaps she would be better if she simply tore it up and left it alone, and joined her husband? Part of her wanted to do just that, but she found that could not get her fingers to tear the page. Slowly, she unfolded the letter.

_Sweet sister_… it began much like Viserys’ other two letters and it made her cringe. Scanning the contents of the letter, Dany did not comprehend much except for one fact… Aerys was dead.


	28. A Place to Belong, Part 2 (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been a million years since I updated this story, so here is a little update to get back in the swing of things. This chapter picks up pretty much right where the last one left off. I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely encouraging comments, you keep me motivated!

Jon waited… and waited… until he finally recognized the sound of Dany’s footsteps coming down the hall. She hesitated in front of the door. Jon sighed. She knew he was angry, and she was trying to avoid him, like she used to do in their first months of marriage. She had rarely known a kind word from anyone then, and she had often avoided their bed when they had arguments. They grew so much that year together before the war… grew to trust each other and to understand each other’s hearts. Had they lost even that in the war? Finally, the door creaked open, and she quickly dropped her eyes to the ground when she realized he was still awake. Jon watched her as she moved around the room like a skittish deer, changing into the warm pajamas they had purchased for her in town. Winter was coming… and as much as Jon adored her silken white nightgown, he did not want her to freeze in the frigid Scottish winter nights. Once changed, she sat an opened letter on the desk and squared her shoulders and looked at him. He was already sitting in bed, and Ghost lay on the little pile of blankets on the floor that Jon had brought up from the cottage. There was something in her eyes that he could not quite place… a strange sort of sadness and steel.

“Daenerys…” Jon started.

“Jon.”

“Are you coming to bed?” He asked as she continued to stand there and stare at him.

“Are you angry?” She asked.

Jon sighed deeply, “Do you think I am?”

“Yes,” She said softly, “But I don’t know why.”

Trying to control his irritation, he held his hand out to her. With the steel still in her eyes, Dany came to him and sat down on the edge of the bed, just out of his reach.

“Come here,” he invited. He did not want to pick a fight. He was angry… it was true, but they could discuss it like adults, there was no need for shouting or cold shoulders. Dany looked at him warily from the corner of her eye. Drawing only a little bit closer, Dany brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them defensively.

“I know you don’t want to be here…” Jon started.

“What do you mean?” She asked evasively.

“I know you are uncomfortable with my family, that you don’t want to be staying here, that you would rather we be down in our cottage…” Jon sighed, “I love them and I want you to love them too, and I thought staying here, since we did not have much choice, would give you a chance to bond with them. I know Sansa’s been difficult, but Jeyne and Catelyn and the rest would give you a chance, if you stayed still long enough to have a conversation with any of them.”

“I’ve had conversations with them,” Dany said, her eyes growing hard, “They’re… they’re my family too now, aren’t they?”

The words broke Jon’s heart, “Yes, they are… that’s why I want you to know them and love them like I do.”

“And what makes you think I don’t?”

“You insisted on coming with me today instead of taking the chance to stay here and spend time with them, and then ran off for hours, like you were hiding…” Jon snapped, “… like you weren’t comfortable being around them without me there.” 

Dany looked away from Jon, “That isn’t a fair thing to say.”

“Isn’t it though?” Jon demanded.

“I was not hiding today,” Dany hissed angrily.

“You could have fooled me,” Jon sighed.

“Why are you so concerned about this right now? We’ve only been here a day, its not like I won’t have time to spend with your family,” Dany said evasively as she got up off the bed and started to pace the room.

“I just want you to be happy here,” Jon retorted, getting up as well.

“Whether I’m happy or not, it doesn’t matter, this is where we have to be!” Dany snapped.

Jon reached for her and she pulled her arm away, “Dany-love, are you truly not happy here?”

She looked at him then, “it’s nice here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Jon said, feeling his heart sink. Would she confirm his greatest fear? Had he ripped her away from all she held dear to come here? He did not have a choice, but had she finally come to regret hers?

“Jon, I don’t know, I don’t know if I even know how to be happy anymore,” Dany said frantically, “I have not been truly happy in so very long that I’m not even sure I know what it feels like anymore!”

Jon understood that sentiment all too well. He reached for her again, wanting to comfort her but she jerked away from him. “What do you want Dany? What do you dream would make you happy?”

She looked up at him with broken eyes, but there was anger in her voice, “I want to be the way I was before the wretched war stole our youth from us! I feel old, and my heart feels so hard, and I just want to feel soft again.”

“Dany…” Jon started but she would not be comforted.

“I want to be young and full of dreams again,” She looked at him, “I want to be a mother… I want to be able to give you a baby… you deserve someone who can give you five or six children, like your Aunt Cat, who can build a home for you, someone who can plant gardens, and sew, and cook…”

“Dany those things don’t matter.”

“They matter to me!” She hurled back, and Jon hoped that they were not waking the rest of the house as their voices escalated.

“Dany-love, you can’t compare yourself to my Aunt Cat, we were happy before the war, and you still did not know how to cook or sew or plant gardens, that is not why we were happy!” Jon argued.

“Were we happy before?” Dany asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to shut him out.

Jon reached for her, and this time she at least let him touch her arms, “Aye, Dany-love, we were happy.”

“I want a baby, Jon,” Dany said, “I want to bring life into the world, and put all this death and destruction behind us.”

“A baby is not going to solve any of the problems that we have in this space between us right now,” Jon said, more harshly than he meant.

She looked down at the ground, she rubbed her arms like she was cold.

“Is a baby still what this is about?” Jon asked, “We’ve hardly tried for a baby, there’s still plenty of time.”

“Please stop saying that,” Dany said, “Its condescending.”

“I’m not trying to sound condescending,” Jon sighed, “All I’m saying is that I think there is more going on here between us than lack of a child, and I think we ought to face it before a child is brought into the mix.”

Dany plopped down on the bed again, and picked at a loose thread on the bedspread, “I’m not unhappy here, Jon,” She said after a few minutes of silence.

Jon knelt on the ground in front of her, “But you are not happy either?” He urged, taking her hands, “You can tell me,” he said more confidently than he felt.

“I don’t know if I’m happy or not,” Dany confessed, she touched his cheek, “I’m happy to be here with you. But I feel lost in Scotland… like… like I don’t belong.”

Jon cupped her cheek in his palm and drew her into a tender kiss, “Well, you’re Scottish now, love, you will have to get used to it.”

She smiled, much to Jon’s relief, “I’ll make more of an effort with the family,” She promised, and Jon kissed her forehead, “They’ve been kind to me and I do want to know them.”

“Thank you, love.”

“I can’t make any promises about Sansa though,” Dany warned with a chuckle.

“Sansa has never been easy,” Jon said, as he stood to his feet, “Not even when she was a child, but there is a tender heart in there somewhere, and I think she’ll come around given time.”

“I wish I had your optimism,” Dany said, with a rueful laugh.

“Don’t let her intimidate you,” Jon said, “She’s good at doing that when she, herself, feels vulnerable.”

“Podrick told me the same,” Dany replied as she lifted the quilts and curled up beneath them.

“You’ve been talking to Podrick?” Jon got underneath the blankets with her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

She nodded, “Only briefly, awhile ago.”

Jon stroked her stomach, hoping he was being comforting.

“I don’t understand why the two of them can’t be together,” Dany said.

“Pod and Sansa?”

“Yes,” Dany replied, “They seem well suited, and he obviously cares about her.”

“I think Podrick may feel some feelings of inadequacy, Sansa is after all his employer and laird’s daughter,” Jon explained, “I think he needs a little more confidence, and Sansa needs to be a little more bold.”

“Sansa is not bold?” Dany snorted in disbelief.

“Sansa has a sharp tongue and a quick wit, and she wears it like armor, but I think deep down she’s terrified to love and be loved back after being burned so many times and so cruelly,” Jon explained. He did not know how much of Sansa’s past he should share with Dany. Sansa would not thank him for it, that was fore sure. She wanted no one’s pity, and it may only cause a further rift between the two. But should Jon leave Dany to find out such horrible things from someone other than him or Sansa herself? He was not sure.

“I won’t let her intimidate me,” Dany said finally after a thoughtful silence.

Jon tightened his arm around her, “Good.”

“Maybe if one of us spoke to Pod?” Dany suggested.

Jon sighed, “Dany, the two of them need to sort out their issues alone, they do not need us poking our noses where they don’t belong and playing matchmaker.”

“But…”

“Please, Dany, leave it be.”

“Fine,” She huffed.

Jon pushed her long hair back and kissed her neck.

“What was in the mail?” Jon asked, remember the letter she had set on the desk when she came in.

“Nothing important,” She said almost defensively.

Jon did not know what to make of that and so he did not press, as he continued to caress her.

“Are you still angry with me?” She asked, though there was a soft lilt of teasing to her tone.

“No, are you angry with me?” Jon asked, as he slipped his hand into her pajama bottoms.

“I wasn’t angry,” She giggled.

Jon laughed, and nipped at her ear, “Whatever you say, love.” She gasped when he cupped her mound in the palm of his hand.

“Do I have your permission to do with you as I will then?” Jon asked, pressing an open mouth kiss to the space where her neck and shoulder met.

Dany turned onto her back and smiled tenderly at him, “Yes,” she whispered breathlessly.

“We can put forth some effort on making that baby.” 

Her eyes sparkled, “Yes.”

Crawling on top of her, Jon pressed her into the soft mattress as he kissed her soundly. Dany threaded her fingers into his hair and moaned. Nudging her legs apart, Jon sat up and knelt between them, reaching for the buttons on her top. Dany grabbed his hands with a teasing smile.

“It’s cold,” she whispered.

“Well, you know what’s best for that don’t you?” Jon asked, as he shed his shirt, and nearly dropped it on Ghost’s little body sleeping on the floor. He rid himself of his pants as well.

“What would that be?”

“Skin on skin,” Jon answered, as he removed her shirt.

She blushed prettily, “I’m sure.”

“It’s true,” Jon chuckled, “Here in Scotland we learn many cold weather survival skills.”

Dany laughed, as he pulled her pants off, “I suppose you will have to show me these skills.”

“Aye, I suppose I will,” Jon grinned.

She was naked before him now, and Jon swept his eyes up and down the length of her body. Gnawing on her lower lip, Dany studied him. He wondered what it was that she was thinking. Could she enjoy being with him tonight, and having him inside her, without fretting over conceiving? She pulled her knees further back, in blatant invitation, and Jon smiled softly. She made him soft, when he feared the war and the world had pulled the humanity from within him, she gave it back to him.

“Are you just going to stare?” Dany asked.

“Just getting my fill of you, love,” He said reverently. Every inch of her was beautiful, from the soft curl of her hair, down to her toes, to that sweet, sacred place between her legs. Jon could not get enough of her. He never wanted to be parted from her again.

“Jon?” She tittered nervously, after a few more minutes of silent staring, “You’re making me nervous.”

Jon crawled over her once more, blanketing her body with his, and her knees coming up to bracket his hips. Jon kissed her nose, “Don’t be nervous,” He smiled, and nuzzled his nose against hers.

“Well, I wouldn’t be if you weren’t gawking at me as if you had never seen me naked before,” Dany said, as she stroked his beard and kissed him.

Jon chuckled, and leaned into her touch, “Looking at you, makes me want to kiss you all over.”

“Everywhere?” She asked mischievously.

“Aye,” Jon said, and started kissing at her throat, “here,” he said, and kissed her collarbone, “And here,” he kissed her shoulder, “And here,” he kissed between her breasts, causing her breathing to hitch. Dany lifted her hand to touch him, but he threaded their fingers together and pinned her hand down.

“And am I allowed to kiss you?” She asked.

“Not yet,” He teased.

“Tis hardly fair,” She laughed, but than gasped loudly as Jon latched his mouth onto one of her nipples. Her back arched pressing him closer.

“Quite a few kisses here,” Jon promised as he switched to her other breast. He continued his downward trajectory, until she was moaning, before dropping his head between her legs and kissing her most intimate place.

“Oh!” Dany cried, and her back bowed off the bed, and one of her legs slung across his back. Jon glanced up at her to find her head turned into the pillow beside her, as she panted, “Don’t stop,” She snapped at him, and so he lowered his head once more. He kissed and sucked and lapped at her until she was shaking. Jon could tell she was fighting to be quiet so as not to wake the whole house, but a startled yelp escaped her when he added a finger alongside his other ministrations. He smiled and worked her to the edge, before pulling away determining that she was ready. Jon drew up her body once more and aligned himself. Their eyes locked, and she nodded in final permission, seeming unable to articulate words. Jon pushed inside her.

“Ah!” She whimpered as she locked him into her embrace, with her arms and legs wrapped around his body, clinging desperately to him.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” He soothed, knowing they needed to be a little quieter, even as he groaned himself. Her eyes were closed, and her brow furrowed almost in concentration, but she smiled tenderly and kissed him.

“I love you, Jon,” she whispered, as her fingers dung into his arms while he began a gentle rhythm of rocking into her.

Jon smiled and brushed kisses across her face, “I love you Daenerys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: A Place to Belong, Part 3... A series of misunderstandings (Dany POV)


End file.
